Only A Dream
by Jeffaplus
Summary: Sequel to Captured. When lightning strikes RJ during a storm, he falls into a coma and relives his past through his dreams. While trying to revive him, the other Hedgies must deal with a growing threat among them. UPDATED; epilogue coming soon. R&R!
1. Another Nightmare

Author's Note: Hooray! The sequel's finally up! Sorry it took so long. I highly recommend that you read my first OTH fanfic, "Captured", otherwise this thing will make absolutely no sense, thanks to the many OCs that I introduced in the first one. If you have read "Captured," then carry on!

Disclaimer: I am not making any profit off of this, and I don't own Over the Hedge or any of the characters in it. They are property of DreamWorks, Michael Fry and T Lewis. My thanks goes to them for making such an awesome film.

**This story is rated T for heavy violence, angst, nightmare scenarios (including character death), and for ... a five-letter word beginning with "S". Read at own risk!**

* * *

_The sunrise cast blood-red streaks across the horizon as the Verminator's van careened down the roadway._

_The car tilted and whirled erratically, almost turning over. Finally the porcupine kids leaped onto the steering wheel and struggled to bring the crazy van back under control._

"_We can drive," Bucky reassured the rest of the Hedgies, "it's just like Auto Homicide 3!"_

_Vincent the bear tore the top of the van off with a savage roar and dove in after the Hedgies._

"_You're **dead**, RJ!" he snarled to the raccoon as he landed in front of them. "And your **friends** are next!"_

"_Leave them alone, Vincent!" RJ shouted, slashing at the bear with his boomerang. Vincent dodged it and broke the driver-side window, laughing. _

"_You think you can beat me, RJ?" the bear said evilly, grinning. "You can't beat me. I'll be everywhere. I'll be everything. There won't be a place you can't escape from me. I'll be hunting you down. And I will kill you. Just like this."_

_With a satisfied roar, Vincent swiped at the porcupine kids. They flew off the steering wheel and out the open window, screaming._

"_**Bucky! Spike! Quillo!**" RJ shouted, diving for the window. Vincent immediately jumped in front of it, still grinning evilly. The huge bear picked up Stella, Ozzie and Heather and threw them out the top of the van, where they disappeared into the sky._

"_Ozzie! Heather! Stella!" cried RJ, but Vincent didn't stop. He slashed at Lou and Penny and they fell to the floor in a shower of red, out of RJ's view. _

"_LEAVE MY FAMILY ALONE!" came a shout, and RJ whirled around to see Verne, standing on the dashboard. The turtle had grabbed RJ's boomerang and now brandished it like a weapon at Vincent. _

"_Verne —" started RJ in alarm, but there was suddenly a popping noise and Verne dropped the boomerang, his hands going to his neck. A needle was poking out of the turtle's flesh. Verne stumbled woozily and fell too._

_RJ jumped onto the dashboard and looked out. The van hurtled forward toward — toward — no ... it couldn't be ... _

_The Verminator's van plummeted through a pile of fiery, twisted wreckage, knocking against pieces of burnt wood and splashing through puddles of leaking chemicals. RJ saw the wheels roll over a fallen sign: "The Guyson-Travis Animal Testing Laboratory."_

_And as the van careened through the smoke, RJ saw a figure in the distance. A very familiar, sinister-looking figure. The human came into better view and RJ saw, with a jolt, Dr. Vexon. The evil scientist was holding a gun and laughing wickedly as the van approached him._

"_**NO!**" RJ shouted hopelessly. He whirled around to see Vincent watching him and smirking. He looked down at the raccoon and smiled, "One left to go, RJ..."_

_And he held up a small, trembling, squeaking squirrel._

"_**HAMMY!**" shouted RJ. "LET HIM GO, VINCENT!"_

_RJ reached into his bag desperately and came out with a golf ball. He drew back his fist and hurled it at Vincent, where it knocked the bear in the head. With a howl, Vincent fell back and let go of Hammy. The squirrel fell, and RJ leaped under Hammy and caught him in his arms._

"_How **touching**," sneered Dr. Vexon from ahead of them. RJ spun around again, and saw the doctor pointing his gun at the pair of them._

"_No..."_

_Vexon fired._

_Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion: the needle blasted out of the gun, trailing smoke, and sailed through the air toward the van. Vincent was looking back down at RJ, glaring murderously. Vexon was laughing, watching the needle make its way toward RJ. RJ was turning away, preparing for the pain._

_And Hammy leaped in front of RJ._

_The needle entered Hammy's stomach._

"_**NO!**" RJ shouted again. The squirrel collapsed in RJ's arms, his eyes closed, amid Vincent and Vexon's triumphant laughter. "Hammy, wake up!"_

_The squirrel was motionless._

"_Hammy, please, wake up! Wake up! Wake up..."_

* * *

"...Wake up, RJ. Wake up. Wake up!"

RJ yelled in alarm and awoke with a jerk. Breathing hard, he looked around. The van was gone. So was Vincent. And Vexon. And the lab. He was back home. In the log. With his family.

"Another nightmare?" said Hammy sympathetically from beside him — the squirrel had woken him up; all of the other Hedgies had already left the log.

"Y-y-yeah," said RJ shakily as he stood up, his legs trembling. "This one was — was — really bad."

"Awww," said the squirrel, his bottom lip poking out. He zipped forward and gave RJ a hug. "Don't worry, RJ. You're home now. If anyone tries to mess with you they'll have to go through us first!"

"Y-y-yeah. Thanks," said RJ, still shaking as he remembered the dream. "But that's what worries me."

Slowly RJ's heart rate returned to normal. His breathing slowed, and Hammy broke the hug. RJ gave the squirrel a little scratch on his head. "Thanks, Hamsquad."

"No problem," said Hammy. Suddenly he perked up. "Know what would make you feel better, RJ? A nice morning swim! C'mon c'mon c'mon, the pond water's really warm today. Whaddya say? Please please please?"

"Sure, Hammy," RJ smiled. "Just let me have some breakfast first."

He turned around and dug through the pile in the log, finally surfacing with some "Delicious Donuts". He held them out to Hammy. "Want one?"

"Oh, sure!" said Hammy, picking out a chocolate old-fashioned. He crammed the entire thing into his mouth and swallowed. He stood there for a moment, smacking his lips, then suddenly his eyes widened and he shot into the air. "YAHOOOOOOOO!" he shouted, spiraling through the grass.

RJ smacked himself in the head. "I keep forgetting about the sugar intake thing," he muttered.

* * *

"COWABUNGA!!!"

George the hedgehog curled himself into a spiky little ball and leaped off a tree branch into the pond, creating a huge splash.

Laughing, the other Hedgies in the pond splashed each other and swam around in circles. "Me next! Me next!" said Marissa, and she jumped out of the water and scurried up the tree. "BONZAI!"

Some distance away, RJ's ear twitched as he listened to the sound of another splash and more laughter. He smiled, but it didn't last long, as his thoughts were still focused on the disturbing dream he had had.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Hammy," RJ said as he and the squirrel walked together. "It's been almost a month since the whole Vexon thing happened, and even longer since Vincent was sent away. But I keep having dreams about them. They keep coming back. And they're ... well, they're not happy," he finished lamely. He didn't exactly want to go into the details.

The squirrel put a sympathetic paw on RJ's shoulder. "RJ, Vexon is in jail. And Vincent is in — is in —" he stopped suddenly, thinking hard. "Ooh, it's right on the tip of my tongue — what is it what is it — wait — what _was_ that place called again?"

"The Rocky Mountains," sighed RJ. "But that's not far enough. No place on Earth would be far enough away for Vincent." As he spoke, he remembered the bear in his dream: _I'll be everywhere. I'll be everything. There won't be a place you can't escape from me. I will hunt you down. And I will kill you_...

"RJ, I bet he's forgotten all about it by now," said Hammy, trying to calm him.

RJ snorted. "Sure, Hammy."

The squirrel fell silent, and RJ felt a twinge of guilt for snapping at him. "Hammy, I'm sorry. But I just don't know what to do. The nightmares keep coming back no matter what I try. I've stayed up all night, I've drunk energy drinks so I can't fall asleep ... I've done everything, and I still keep having them … I can't escape them."

The splashing sounds grew louder, and as RJ parted a pair of bushes he saw that they had arrived at the pond. He turned to Hammy and said quietly, "Listen, Hamsquad, don't tell the others, ok? I just ... I really don't want them to worry."

"Sure, RJ," Hammy agreed, "mum's the word."

RJ smiled. "Thanks, buddy."

"Hey, Uncle RJ!" said Bucky the porcupine, bouncing up to meet the pair. "We've just been taking turns dive-bombing into the pond. You wanna go next?"

"Sure, Bucky," RJ grinned, and let the kid lead him to the "diving tree". Quickly RJ scampered up the trunk and onto the branch that hung over the pool. "Well, here goes nothing," he said. "CANNONBALL!"

* * *

A few hours later, RJ surfaced from the pond from the last time, his fur soaking wet. A nice long swim had done him good — he laughed and joked with the others as he dried his fur off with a few leaves, his mind quite far from any nightmares about Vincent or Vexon.

"Whatcha doing, Verne?" asked RJ, noticing the turtle examining the leaves carefully before he dried himself.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," Verne muttered. "I just don't want a replay of the time I accidentally dried off with some poison ivy."

"That was _years_ ago, Verne," sighed Stella, running a hand through the bushy fur on her head. "You _still _haven't gotten over that?"

"Hey, I was itching for a week!" argued Verne. "And in some very sensitive places, I might add!"

"That was probably a little more than we needed to know," said Rob from the back of the group as he pulled a shirt on. Their human friend had arrived late in the day but had made up for it by creating a huge splash that emptied half the pond, which the porcupine kids were still giggling about. "Oh _please_, Rob, one more time?" asked Quillo, making Bambi eyes at the boy.

"Well you know, if he does it any more he just might empty out the entire pond, there," said Lou to his kids.

"Come on, boys," Penny added, "let's go find something to eat. Remember, this one has to be a _healthy_ meal, now."

Groans of "not fair" and "boring" and "we already had one this week" came from the kids, but they didn't resist as their parents shuffled them off. "There's some TV dinners over in the mini-bar, Penny," called RJ, pointing.

"Thanks there, RJ," said Lou. "Come on, kids, clean your plates and you can have some soda for dessert."

"But no caffeine," added Penny seriously.

RJ finished drying off and called, "I'm gonna get some lunch too. Anyone coming?"

"I will!" said Hammy, zipping up to join the raccoon. "I need my cookies!"

RJ rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

Soon the sounds of the others faded as the two of them slowly strolled back to the log. RJ closed his eyes and enjoyed the smell of the fresh summer's day, the feeling of the cool breeze on his nose. Summer was always his favorite time of year.

"RJ," Hammy said nervously from beside him, "can — can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Hamsquad," said RJ, putting a paw on the squirrel's shoulder, "what's up?"

"Well, before you met us you said you were always — well — a family of one. But — why is that?"

RJ froze, his ears flat against his head. "Why do you want to know?" he asked, forcing himself to keep his voice steady.

"I —" Hammy faltered upon seeing the expression on RJ's face. "I — it's nothing, never mind, forget it."

RJ's expression softened. _There was no way Hammy could have known_, he told himself. "I'm sorry, Hammy. It's just that I prefer not to think about that stuff, that's all."

"Why?" Hammy asked timidly.

"Because what I'd really prefer," said RJ, as he began walking again, "is to forget about it entirely. Now, where are those cookies of yours?"


	2. Stay Awake

"Stay awake, RJ. Come on ... don't fall asleep..."

The raccoon's eyelids lowered as he looked up at the night sky, trying not to lose consciousness. There was a full moon; it bathed RJ in its glow as the stars twinkled beside it. It was a beautiful sight, but RJ couldn't see much of it, because his eyes were only half-open. He started, rubbed his eyes sleepily, and took another sip of the highly caffeinated Green Cow soda. _Well, that helped a little_, he thought.

RJ thumped himself on the chest as he tried to resist lying down. All of the other Hedgies had fallen asleep long ago; Hammy was snoring gently from beside him. It had been a good day: They had staged a raid on the new Mason house and had come home with countless cans of food — mostly Spuddies. RJ crunched another chip down now, but still felt extremely tired.

_Why am I doing this?_ he asked himself. _There's no way I can stay up all night. Is it just prolonging the inevitable?_

Hammy gave a small snort from beside him, muttering "I ... like the ... cookie," and RJ smiled and scratched the squirrel's head. Hammy's foot promptly twitched, thumping against the log like a drum-roll, until RJ stopped scratching and rested a paw on his shoulder. The squirrel sighed quietly in his sleep and turned over.

RJ was envious of Hammy. _No bad dreams for him_, RJ thought. The raccoon's vision swam again as his eyes threatened to shut, and he rubbed them until they opened once more. He was so very tired. But he couldn't let himself fall asleep. Otherwise Vincent and Vexon would return in nightmares peppered with the screams of RJ's family falling victim to his enemies... he smacked himself in the chest again and rested a paw on the ground, forcing himself to stay sitting up.

His head felt heavy, his thoughts muddled. How he would like to sleep... _but no, I can't. Vincent will come back_ ... his eyelids were lowering again... _Vexon will come for his revenge_ ... RJ was lying down ... _I'll go crazy if I have another one of those nightmares_ ... his eyes were closing as he breathed in deeply ... _maybe just a short rest. A catnap. A long blink_...

* * *

_RJ opened his eyes. Around him, all was dark. He started to stand up and hit his head on something hard. "What —" _

_There was the click of a switch, and the room was suddenly flooded with a harsh white light. RJ crept forward and looked around. He was in a cage. A cage that was stacked on top of other, larger cages. Sitting in a cage next to him was a small orange figure, and below that cage were two gray rats, leaning against the bars._

"_RJ," Katrina said, and her voice was hollow, haunted, empty. "You need to get out of here." _

"_What?" said RJ. "Why? What's going on?"_

"_He's coming," said Marissa from beside her sister. She looked up at RJ, and her eyes were vacant and dark, with no emotion behind them. "He's coming to inject him."_

"_What? Who?" shouted RJ, rattling the bars of his cage furiously. "I don't —"_

_A door next to RJ's cage banged open, and a shadowy figure stepped inside, holding a large hypodermic needle. Wordlessly the figure turned toward a cage in the corner, in which a dark figure paced restlessly. The figure swung open the cage door and reached in with the needle. _

"_Easy there ... that's a good fellow ... perfect." RJ heard a slight clicking sound, and the figure stood up again, tossing the now-empty needle aside. Leaving the cage door open, the human strode back through the door and turned to shut it. As he did, his eyes caught the light. RJ gasped: it was Vexon. The doctor grinned evilly at him. "Enjoy yourself," smirked Vexon as he shut the door._

_All was quiet in the dark room. "Marissa — Katrina —" RJ gasped, trying to get the rats' attention. "What — what did he do?"_

_Katrina looked up at him again with her dark, empty eyes. "Vexon gave him a serum that forced him to turn evil."_

"_Gave — who?"_

_There was a snarl, and RJ's cage toppled; with a crash he fell off the stack and landed on the floor hard. RJ scrambled desperately to his feet, looking for the attacker, and his eyes fell on the bottom cage. The animal inside of it looked familiar ... too familiar. It looked like someone RJ hadn't seen in a long time._

"_Raymond?" RJ whispered._

_A pair of intense blue eyes opened and gazed out at him from the cage, but before RJ could do any more, the bars of his own cage were torn open with a growl. RJ looked up, terrified. Standing in front of him was a large wolf. _

"_Rob!" RJ shouted, but the wolf didn't respond. There was a strange red glow in his eyes, an unnatural, demonic glow. "Rob, what — what did Vexon **do** to you?"_

_Wordlessly the wolf reached in and clamped his jaws around RJ, picking him up. The raccoon struggled uselessly against Rob's teeth. "Rob, snap out of it!" RJ shouted. "It's me! RJ!"_

_The wolf snarled and tossed RJ aside. The raccoon sailed across the room and hit the wall hard, sliding down to the floor. Looking up, RJ saw Rob rear up on his hind legs and reach into the cage above the rats. "Rob —" RJ shouted hopelessly. "Don't —"_

_There was a loud snapping noise, and Rob pulled the small orange figure out from the cage and threw him toward RJ. The figure fell into RJ's arms, and RJ realized it was Hammy. RJ lifted the squirrel up and suddenly felt warm liquid running onto his arms. It was blood. Hammy's blood._

"_I'm sorry, RJ," the squirrel whispered as he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry..."_

* * *

"AAAGH!" RJ screamed as he woke suddenly.

Breathing hard, he looked around. He couldn't have been asleep for more than a few hours: it was still slightly dark out, and the rest of the Hedgies were still sleeping. RJ placed a hand over his chest as he willed himself to calm down. "Only a dream," he whispered to himself, "only another nightmare. Still alive. Still alive..."

It was then RJ noticed something: during the night Hammy had shifted in his sleep so that his arms were wrapped around RJ. "Why do my nightmares always come down to you?" RJ quietly asked the sleeping squirrel, stroking his head gently. "Why are you always the last one to get hurt the most?"

Hammy nuzzled RJ's chest fur lightly with his nose, tickling him. RJ had to laugh: Even when Hammy was unconscious, he made RJ feel better. This thought cheered him up slightly and he sat up, careful not to disturb the sleeping squirrel. RJ leaned against the side of the log and looked out toward the sky. The sun was rising, casting a glow of orange and yellow light across the horizon. In a few hours the rest of the Hedgies would be waking up.

Hammy sighed quietly in his sleep and released his grip on RJ, turning over again. RJ contented himself with stroking the little squirrel's head as he thought about his nightmare. Had he really seen Raymond? It _was_ only a dream, but still. RJ didn't like to think about anyone from his past, because that only reminded him of what had happened. So why was his younger brother on his mind all of a sudden?

And why had Rob made an appearance? It was true that in the nightmare, Vexon had really been the one responsible for the wolf's evil actions. But Rob wasn't even a wolf anymore; he was human again. Right?

Suddenly there was a loud clapping noise and RJ jumped; the rest of the Hedgies remained undisturbed. RJ looked out through a hole in the log and noted that several storm clouds were rumbling in the distance, drifting toward the Hedge. _There'll be a thunderstorm tonight,_ RJ thought to himself. _Should probably tell Verne when he wakes up, that way he can start preparing the family_.

Or what was _left_ of it, RJ reminded himself. About twenty of the former lab animals had packed up and left around a week ago. There had been a flyer circulating around suburbia, saying that the SPCA was out on the move, looking for animals to find and take care of. _Dr. Parker's doing, no doubt,_ thought RJ. He personally didn't see the appeal in being "adopted" by a human, but apparently some animals did, and had left the Hedge for a different home. Only a handful of the lab critters — Marissa, Katrina, George, John, and a few others — had remained. They were upset to lose their friends, but understood their decision and accepted it.

RJ laid back down next to Hammy and stared up at the top of the log. He didn't expect to fall asleep again, but resting in the leaves and foilage was calming. He closed his eyes and breathed in a contented sigh. Nightmares or not, he really did have a good thing here. The whole "family" idea was something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

RJ rested there for a minute before he began to feel restless again, and stood up. A little early-morning TV, that was what he needed. Just something to do while the rest of the Hedgies woke up. RJ grinned and gave Hammy one last scratch on his head before shuffling out of the log.

The raccoon stretched and breathed in the cool morning breeze. It was awhile before he noticed a slight shuffling sound coming from behind the log. It wasn't very loud, but whoever was doing it was obviously close.

"Hello?" RJ called out quietly. Maybe another one of the Hedgies had already woken up. "Anyone there?"

Silently he gazed around the clearing. No one there. He cocked an ear and listened, and he heard the shuffling sound again, coming from behind a tree a few yards away. Cautiously he crept toward it. "Who's there?" he whispered again.

There was no response, but the shuffling grew louder. RJ reached the tree and pressed his back against the trunk, feeling nervous. He took a deep breath and slowly peered around the tree.

_WHUMP!_

RJ yelled as he was forced onto the ground, his assailant's paws pinning his shoulders down. "What the —" Suddenly he got a good look at his attacker and started. "_Rob?_"

His human friend had changed back into a wolf.


	3. The Storm Begins

Rob relaxed his grip on RJ and lifted his paws. "Sorry, RJ," he apologized, "I didn't know it was you."

"Who else could it have been?" asked RJ, as he stood up and brushed his fur off. He studied the wolf closely. "Rob, what the heck happened to you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Rob laughed humorlessly. "Seems that every time I get nervous or agitated, basically, I turn back into a wolf. I've gone _days_ before I can get back to normal, RJ. It's driving me insane."

"So how _do _you get back to normal?" asked the raccoon, circling Rob.

Rob shrugged. "It's simple enough — I just have to calm down — but that's pretty hard to do when you're stuck as a wolf."

"I guess it would be," muttered RJ. "Does your family know?"

"Are you kidding?" said Rob. "If I told anyone about this, I'd get hauled off to another lab for more testing. No way would I want to do that again."

"I don't blame you," said RJ earnestly, "It's nasty stuff."

"I don't know what to do, RJ," said Rob, pacing nervously. "I mean, I'm not a scientist or anything, and the lab was destroyed. How am I supposed to get a cure?"

"Let's just try to figure out how to change you back for now," said RJ reasonably, "and then we can worry about a cure. Now, how did you calm down last time?"

"Well, I —" Rob started, but was cut off as another distant, but much louder, roll of thunder came rumbling across the sky. The two of them glanced at the horizon and saw the storm clouds some distance away; as the two of them watched, another flash lightning hit the air. And RJ missed the rest because a small orange blur came streaking out of the log and promptly tackled him. Dazed, RJ looked up to see Hammy staring down at him.

"RJ!" he said frantically, "The thunder woke me up and you were gone! I knew you hadn't left, I knew it I knew it I knew it!" He suddenly eyed the raccoon with a concerned look, and asked sympathetically, "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Didn't we agree we wouldn't talk about that, Hammy?" said RJ cautiously, standing up.

"Yeah, but it's only the two of us here and — and — oh." Hammy suddenly noticed Rob standing in front of them, eyebrows raised. "Hi, Rob!" the squirrel said, waving. "Oh, wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to be a human now?"

"Yes, Hammy," Rob said, rolling his eyes. "I seem to be having trouble staying that way, though."

"Wow!" said Hammy. "It's kind of like you're a werewolf, except — not. What do you do to change back?"

"I don't know," said Rob, pacing again. "Usually all I have to do is stop thinking about it, but it's not working this time."

"It's probably really hard to stop thinking about being something you're not!" Hammy chirped with his usual innocence.

"Yes, that's my problem," Rob replied dryly.

"I have an idea," said RJ. "Do you know if the morning paper's come yet?"

* * *

The sky overhead darkened as thin gray clouds rolled in. Above the log, a leaf snapped off a tree branch and drifted downward, floating lazily until it reached Verne's shell, where it promptly slithered into a tiny opening above his arm, tickling him. "AWK!" the turtle screeched as he woke suddenly. Frustrated, he spun around on the spot and quietly ranted, "If it's not snow, it's leaves, and if it's not leaves, it's water! Maybe I need to get a bigger shell. One with _smaller holes_..." 

Muttering darkly to himself and patting his stomach, Verne shuffled out of the log. He stopped by RJ's little homey area to grab a brush and some soap. Ever since RJ and the porcupine kids had played a joke on him by filming his bath, Verne liked to bathe in the morning, when the kids were sure to be asleep.

Finally he reached the bathing pond. He clumsily slipped off his shell and touched the water with his toe. "Oooh! That's cold." He looked up at the darkening sky. "Hmm. Storm coming soon. Should start preparing when the others wake up..."

Sighing, he waded into the water, grabbed some soap and began to scrub himself clean, whistling a tune.

In a thicket a few yards away, Snowy and John were dozing contentedly, sleeping late after yesterday's raid. Too tired to walk all the way to the log, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms and now slowly began to wake, looking around blearily before noting where they were.

Snowy blinked, then smiled. "Good morning," she purred, stroking John's furry cheek.

John gave a huge yawn, showing sharp cat teeth. "'Morning," he replied, stretching. "What's on the ol' agenda today?"

"Nothing much," said Snowy, also stretching. "We got a lot of food from the raid yesterday, so we should be good for at least a week. What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, just spending some time together," John smiled. "What say we head back to the log for some breakfast?"

"Sounds good to me," said Snowy, and the two of them set off.

* * *

Bucky was the first of his family to wake up, late in the morning. And his siblings woke up two seconds later, thanks to his shouting in their ear. The three of them then proceeded to gamble about, wrestling and horsing around with each other. Not paying the slightest attention to where they were going, they rolled through leaves and thickets until at last they lay down, exhausted, panting and gasping. They remained there for awhile, getting their breath back. 

"We've been awake for five minutes and already we're really tired," said Quillo, rolling over.

"That's got to be a record or something," said Spike, sitting up. Something shiny, nestled in some branches a ways away, caught his eye and he bounded over toward it. "What's this?"

He pulled on it and suddenly fell back with a screech: the shiny thing was Verne's shell, and the turtle had currently been trying to put it on after he finished up his bath. "_KIDS!_" Verne shouted at them, and the three of them sprinted away, laughing and high-fiving each other. They didn't get very far, however; as they rounded a corner, they suddenly ran into their parents, who were staring down at them with murderous looks on their faces.

"Kids..." Lou started in a very serious tone of voice that signaled trouble.

"We've told you time and time again not to bother Verne while he's bathing!" said Penny, shaking her head. "What are we going to do with you?"

"It was an accident!" Bucky said defensively, and Quillo and Spike nodded in agreement. "We didn't know it was him!"

"Whether that's the case or not," said a voice, and the five of them turned to see Verne, now back in his shell, strolling toward them, "you're still going to help me out today. Penny, Lou, is it okay if these kids help me stock up the log?"

"Why, sure, there, Verne," said Penny. "But what for?"

Verne pointed toward the horizon. "There's a storm coming. It'll probably start tonight, but we don't know how long it could go on, and we need food if we're going to stay sheltered in the log. The kids can help with that."

Lou nodded. "We'll help you out there, too. C'mon, kids," he said, gesturing, "let's go clean out the mini-bar!"

"Sodas have the _last_ priority!" Penny added, following.

* * *

"This isn't working!" exploded Rob in frustration. "It's worked before but it won't work now. We've been at this for half the day and we haven't gotten anywhere!" 

"Rob, you need to calm down," said Hammy, with infinite patience. "That's the whole point. You calm down, you stop thinking about it, you change back. Simple!"

Behind them, RJ pressed a couple of buttons on one of the Hedgies' cell phones, glowering. He had found the classifieds section of the paper early in the morning, dug the cell phone out of his bag and called the SPCA, only to be told he'd have to wait until the office opened at ten o'clock. When that finally happened, he'd had to work his way through an automated voice-mail system which had already hung up on him three times. His patience wearing thin, RJ pressed one again, and was now told, "_To locate an employee, please enter the first three letters of their last name._"

RJ keyed in 7-2-7 (P-A-R), and waited, hoping for the best.

There was silence on the line for a minute, then the automated voice came back, saying, "_Dr. Parker is currently unavailable. To leave a voicemail message, press one._"

"**_What?_**" RJ shouted into the phone, and both Rob and Hammy stared at him. "I waited two hours for _this?_" There was no reply from the phone, only the same message repeated again. Grimacing, RJ pressed one.

"_Dr. Parker's voice mailbox is full. Please try again later._"

"AAAGH!" RJ shouted, and hurled the phone as far away as he could. He heard a distant thump, indicating that the phone had landed in a clearing some ways away, and sat down on the grass, trying to cool his anger. Finally he looked up at Rob. "I think I'm starting to know how you feel."

"I think so," agreed Rob, walking over to the cell phone and turning it off. He cleaned the screen, checking for scratches, then snapped the phone shut and tossed it away. "But that gives me an idea." He turned to RJ and Hammy with a gleam in his eye. "If we can't reach Parker by phone, maybe we can go to his office. The SPCA building isn't far from here."

"That sounds fun!" chirped Hammy, dashing over to RJ and pulling his arm. "C'mon, RJ, let's go let's go let's go!"

"Are you sure?" RJ asked Rob, standing up. "We'd have to stay hidden."

"I know," said Rob, "but I had a lot of practice at the lab." He smiled and extended his paw to RJ and Hammy. "Hop on."

RJ hesitated, then smiled also. "Oh, why not?" Slinging his bag over his back, he climbed up onto Rob's shoulders with Hammy; the squirrel promptly pointed forward and shouted, "Hiya, _mush!_" Rob looked up at him and raised an eyebrow; Hammy faltered. "Or, not mush. Either way is good."

Rob grinned, then said, "Hold on!" Rearing up onto his hind legs, he burst through the hedge and was soon running down the streets of suburbia with powerful strides. "Bye, Steve!" said Hammy, turning back to wave at the hedge.

* * *

"Okay, Marissa, let's go over this again," said Katrina with a voice of forced calm as she and her sister gripped an umbrella, ready to open it. "The storm's about to hit, we need to be prepared. Now, this is how you do it —" 

She was cut off as Marissa suddenly yanked on the umbrella pole, wrestling with it; the canvas promptly opened up, turned inside out, tore off and blew away in the breeze. Marissa watched it go and turned to grin sheepishly at Katrina.

Katrina held her head in her paws. "You know, Marissa, I've tried to be patient, but your inability to use things is really tiring."

"Come on, I can do it!" said Marissa defensively. "We still have some time, right? So let's go and get another umbrella and —"

Suddenly there was a violent gust of wind; when Katrina looked up at the sky, rain promptly began pouring down on them by the bucketload and within seconds the two of them were soaked. Katrina glared at Marissa as they held their paws over their heads and splashed back to the log.

Across the glade, the rest of the Hedgies were doing the same. Stella and Tiger had been having a romantic candlelit dinner; the candles had now been extinguished by the wind and rain, and Tiger was bolting back to the log as fast as his feet would carry him (he hated water). Behind him, Stella scrambled to keep up.

Snowy and John had been exploring together on the other side of the Hedge. A couple of little humans had discovered them, and decided to take the two cats home; they was only saved when the kids ran inside to avoid the rain. Snowy and John jumped through the Hedge and shook themselves off before also returning to the log.

Ozzie, Lilly and Heather had been sleeping in a tree, hanging from a branch by their tails. They had only woken up when the rain caused the branch to bend and send them tumbling to the ground. Ozzie had promptly played dead, thinking a predator was attacking; an embarrassed Heather pulled him to his feet and ran with him and Lilly to the log.

Verne and the porcupine family had already been prepared, and had stashed up on food accordingly: there was enough to keep the family in the log for a week, if needed. Right now Verne stood at the entrance with a clipboard, checking off each Hedgie as they entered. Behind him, the porcupine kids gamboled about (having just finished a Dr. Salt soda) as their parents struggled to keep them under control.

Last to reach the log were Jackson, Willow, George, and Frank the frog. The two rabbits shook themselves off and cleaned their fur. George found a spot in the log and laid down, careful not to poke anyone with his quills. Frank got the porcupine kids under control by amusing them with his tongue: it was so long that it made for some funny tricks (right now he was tying himself up with it). Verne put a little tick in the last box on the clipboard and checked the list over.

"Hang on, wait a minute..." the turtle muttered as he scanned the list. He saw two unchecked boxes and sighed. "Oh, great."

"What?" said Snowy, coming to peer over Verne's shoulder. The turtle showed her the list. "We're missing two of our family."

"RJ and Hammy," said Stella, also looking at it. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Well," Verne amended, checking the list again, "technically we're also missing Rob, but he does have his own home to go to, after all."

"Maybe RJ and Hammy went there?" suggested Heather.

"I don't know ... they didn't happen to take a cell phone with them, did they?" asked Verne, searching through the stockpile in the log. "We have a couple ..."

"Yes, they did," said Willow, slightly nervous, "but I called the number and they're not answering. The phone's been shut off ... and it looks like there's no way to reach them."

"Should we look for them?" asked Jackson, daring to look out of the log. "The rain's not very heavy now, but there's lightning and thunder coming."

"Nah, they'll be fine," said Frank with a flip of his hand. "RJ's seen worse than this, I'm sure."

"I just hope they get back soon," said Verne, looking out into the rain. "Otherwise I'll have to go out and find them myself."

* * *

"Oh, brilliant," said Rob sarcastically, as the rain poured down on the three of them. "Really brilliant. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea to go to the SPCA with a thunderstorm on the way." 

"It's not a problem," RJ smiled, and as he dug through his bag he located some dollhouse umbrellas. He gave one to Hammy and opened one himself; when he offered Rob one, however, the wolf declined. "It probably wouldn't do much good," he said, looking at the umbrella, which had been designed to fit a twelve-inch-tall doll.

"No," RJ agreed, slinging his bag back over his shoulder, "probably not. Do you want to head back?"

"Nah, we're almost there," said Rob, now walking forward again. "And hey, I probably won't get any more drenched than I am already."

The wolf continued walking in silence. RJ, noticing Hammy start to shiver, wrapped an arm around the squirrel's shoulder and pulled him close to keep him warm. Hammy blinked, then stopped shivering and rested against RJ with a contented sigh. RJ closed his umbrella; the one Hammy was holding was enough for both of them.

Suddenly there came a screech of tires from behind them; turning around, RJ saw a large, black surveillance van careening around the corner. It swayed unsteadily across the street before righting itself and continuing forward, increasing its speed.

Rob hopped off the sidewalk and into a bush. Crouching on the wolf's shoulders, RJ and Hammy waited for the van to pass. "That guy should be more careful, driving in the rain," said Hammy disapprovingly. "He could..."

He was cut off with another screech of tires: The van was now zooming down the street at an alarming speed, much faster than was safe. It lurched to the side ominously and left tire marks on the road, but didn't stop. The wheels spun every which way, squealing in protest. Finally the van swiveled and zoomed forward again.

Right toward the bush where Rob, Hammy and RJ were standing.

"...get ... someone ... killed..." Hammy trailed off.

Rob leaped out of the bush just in time; the van plowed through it in a shower of branches, the left tire crushing the leaves into dust. Rob bolted down the sidewalk as fast as he could, RJ and Hammy clinging tightly onto his shoulders. RJ chanced a glance behind them and saw, with a chill, that the van was changing direction again: it was following them. And worse, it was gaining.

Rob ran through the streets of suburbia, ignoring the continuous screech of tires that meant the van was still pursuing them. The wolf rounded a corner sharply and RJ and Hammy were almost thrown off; tightening their grip on Rob's shoulders, the raccoon and squirrel looked behind them again. The van was also careening through the street, and almost smashed into a house; but righting itself, it continued to chase them. RJ squinted, trying to see through the windshield of the van, but the glass was tinted black and the driver could not be made out.

Soon the hedge came into view, but rather than slow down, Rob increased his speed. Without a glance backward he hopped through it and then slowed, panting slightly. RJ looked around: they had come in on the wrong side. The rest of the Hedgies were some distance away from them, on the other side of the clearing. But that didn't matter: they were away from the van. There was no way it was following them through the hedge.

Or was there?

The three of them heard the squeal of tires, the revving of an engine — and slowly Rob turned around to see the van breaking through the branches and leaves, shoving the hedge aside as if it were no more than an ant. Rob's eyes widened and he backed away slowly, turning to run as the van finally burst all the way through and headed for them again.

"Have to — lure them — away —" RJ heard Rob muttering under his breath as he ran, and the raccoon realized that, rather than run toward the log, Rob was going the opposite way, so as not to lead the van to the rest of the Hedgies. A sudden long, droning note blasted through the air and RJ covered his ears: the van was honking at them. And that horn was much, much too close for comfort.

Rob leaped over a row of bushes and fell straight into a pond; the shallow water splashed around the three of them as the wolf continued running right through it. RJ heard another splashing sound behind them and knew that the van had also entered the water. The raccoon turned around again, and saw that rather than getting stuck — as they had hoped it would — the van was continuing to move forward, going even faster.

Suddenly Rob screeched to a halt: in front of them loomed the hedge once again. "I _told_ you it never ends!" said a terrified Hammy, before the wolf burst through the leaves, back in front of a row of suburban houses. He turned and ran down the right side of the street, rounding another corner. RJ noticed that the wolf was looking around him with confusion; it was clear that this part of the neighborhood, which had just finished construction several weeks ago, was new to him. Rather than risk getting lost, Rob rounded another corner and, before the van followed them, ducked into a narrow divide between two houses. It was here that the wolf finally stopped running, and the three of them listened intently, waiting to see if they had lost the van.

"Don't ... breathe..." whispered Rob, as he heard the van's tires squealing in protest as it attempted to get through the hedge again. Then the rev of the engine grew louder, and RJ knew it was approaching the alleyway. Rob slinked back into the shadows, not making a sound, waiting to see if the van would pass them.

It didn't.

With another honk of its blaring horn, the van spun on its squealing tires and shoved itself into the divide with a crunch. Rob backed away, but noticing the van getting caught in the alley, he changed course and ran forward again. "Hold on!" he shouted at RJ and Hammy, and the wolf jumped ... right on top of the van's hood.

Quickly the wolf climbed over the car and leaped back into the street, running again. Behind them, the van's engine shifted into reverse and spun out of the divide, taking some of the wood from the houses with it. Ignoring this, the van revved forward again, pursuing the trio.

Panting, Rob rounded another corner. Suddenly he skidded to a halt — in front of them was a large yellow sign, posted to a concrete wall: END.

"Oh no," whispered RJ, looking up at it: the wall stretched very high — too high for Rob to leap over. Terrified, the wolf glanced to his left, then his right, but with the van in front of them, there was nowhere to go. It was a dead end.

Another honk split the air: the van had noticed the trio's plight and was increasing its speed even more. Rob looked around again, dashing from side to side, hoping for an opening — none was there. And the van would be upon them at any second.

"Oh no," Hammy was squeaking, over and over. "Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no —"

Suddenly Rob reached up and grabbed Hammy and RJ in his paw, bringing them in front of him. RJ looked into the wolf's shining eyes for one brief moment before Rob whispered, "Sorry" — and threw RJ and Hammy up into the air.

Screaming, the raccoon and squirrel hurled over the van, which zoomed under them in a blur. Thinking quickly, RJ grabbed onto Hammy and shielded him with his body as they approached the ground. They landed on a patch of grass in one of the humans' front yards, some distance away from the van, and bounced across. Ignoring the dull pain in his back, RJ leaped to his feet.

"_ROB!_" he shouted after the van — but it was too late.

WHAM.


	4. The Strike

Rob was dead.

Rob ... was ... _dead_.

RJ was propelled through the rest of the night in a daze, unable to remember anything clearly as he tried so hard not to grasp the fact that their friend would never be able to become human again. Rob's death ran over and over in RJ's mind; the raccoon kept seeing images that flashed in front of his eyes again and again...

...Hammy running over to Rob, sobbing and crying, begging the wolf to wake up...

...The van speeding away, rounding a corner with a squeal of tires, never looking back...

...The shocked and horrified reactions of the rest of the family when RJ and Hammy came back through the hedge carrying Rob's unmoving body...

...Hammy sitting alone, away from the others, not talking to anyone...

...The rest of the Hedgies seeing it, refusing to believe it, unwilling to believe it, then finally breaking down in tears...

...And through it all, RJ saw Rob's lifeless face, his eyes opened and glazed, his body not moving.

The Hedgies hadn't been able to bring themselves to bury Rob. Not yet. They had closed his eyes and laid him on a blanket in a clearing nearby, none of them able to face the wolf. They had also bandaged the wound on Rob's chest, but even when it stopped bleeding he showed no signs of stirring. With his eyes closed, it looked as if the wolf were just sleeping, but RJ knew it was a sleep from which he would never awaken.

Their friend's life had been cut so short so soon, and RJ knew that Rob's parents would never know what had happened to him.

_Who could have done this?_ RJ thought, his eyes glistening. The raccoon had seated himself in the family's "home" area, away from the rest of the Hedgies. As he sat there, alone, his head filled with "if only"s: _If only we had taken a different route. If only we hadn't run into that wall. If only Rob had been able to get out of there..._ RJ buried his face in his hands and let the sorrow wash over him.

It rained all through the night. Lightning flashed across the sky, thunder rumbled into the distance, and the water came down in torrents, never letting up. RJ barely noticed the rain drenching his fur, drenching the clearing, drenching everything in his little home area — the car seat, the universal remote, his bag, the umbrella that he had offered Rob but that the wolf had been unable to use...

RJ was exhausted. But he couldn't sleep, not now. How could he sleep after all that had happened? How could he face the nightmares that came so easily when he was unconscious, after going through one in real life? Slowly he laid down on the wet grass, shivering, but unwilling to fall asleep. He could only think of Rob's open eyes, and their glazed, lifeless look ... RJ laid there for a long time, not even aware of gradually, finally, drifting off into unconsciousness...

* * *

_..."Let's see ..." said Rob, running a paw over the vending machine's controls. "We want ... A5."_

_He keyed in the code with a claw and stood back. Below, he, RJ and Hammy watched in anticipation as the bag of Spuddies (new Pizza flavor) began to unwind from the coil, dipping towards them._

_And ... it got stuck._

"_What the —" Rob swore and slammed a paw into the machine, with no effect. "Does this vending machine not like animals or something? Just because I keep turning into a __**wolf**__ doesn't mean I don't have an __**appetite**__, dang it!"_

"_Rob, calm down," said Hammy reassuringly. "I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world or anything, right?"_

"_No, I will __**not**__ calm down!" shouted Rob, now almost in hysterics. "My life is spinning out of control and I can't do anything about it! I don't like it! I can't even control a bag of __**chips**__, for crying out loud!"_

_RJ stared up at the unmoving Spuddies and sighed. Frustrated, he banged the slot on the machine, trying to get it to relinquish the chips. RJ ignored the strange sense of deja vu he was beginning to feel, and tried again. Behind him, Rob sat down and put his head in his front paws, taking deep breaths._

"_Sorry, Hammy," he said after awhile. "I just ... I don't ... I want my life back."_

_The squirrel put a sympathetic paw on Rob's shoulder, saying, "We'll get it back with you, Rob. Don't worry."_

"_Yeah," came a voice in front of them. "But in the meantime, can I have a little help?" _

_Hammy and Rob stared: __RJ had jammed himself into the vending machine slot, and was now totally stuck inside the machine. The raccoon tried to pull on the slot from the inside, with no such luck; the door would not open. RJ pressed his paws against the glass separating him from the now-panicked Hammy and considered his options._

_Unfortunately, as RJ heard a new voice from beside them, he realized all of his options were bad. Very bad._

"_Well, well, well," came an all-too-familiar chuckle. Rob and Hammy whirled around; standing behind them was a tall, shadowy figure. Vincent the bear stepped into the light and his fur shined brightly as he smirked. RJ quailed from inside the vending machine as the bear leaned down right in front of him. Only a thin pane of glass separated Vincent from the frightened raccoon. The bear's heavy breathing made a slight mist on the glass, in which RJ could see his own panicked reflection._

"_Looks like you can't get yourself out of this one, RJ," Vincent said, leering. "At least, not if I can do this."_

_And to RJ's horror, the bear reached into his bag, which was lying beside the vending machine, and drew out a roll of duct tape. RJ struggled frantically, but before he could blink Vincent had pulled the tape across the slot, shutting it firmly. _

"_I reckon you've got five minutes before you run out of air," said Vincent, tossing the tape aside. "Now then, who're your little friends?"_

"_HAMMY! ROB!" shouted RJ through the glass. "Run! RUN!"_

"_Not until we get you out of there!" shouted Hammy, zipping forward toward the machine. Rob, meanwhile, gave a fierce snarl and leaped for Vincent, his powerful jaws snapping around the bear's shoulder. Vincent howled and fell with a huge THUD, wrestling furiously with the growling wolf._

_Hammy took advantage of this distraction to begin pulling the duct tape off the slot. RJ leaned forward in anticipation, expecting it to come undone any minute; Hammy hadn't gotten more than halfway through, however, when Vincent reached out with a paw and sideswiped the squirrel. Hammy flew twenty feet away, hit the cement hard and did not get up again._

"_NO!" shouted RJ, banging against the glass in a futile effort. Seeing this, Rob had jumped off Vincent and ran toward Hammy; the wolf now stood protectively in front of the squirrel as Vincent went after the two of them in a rage. Rob snarled and leaped for the bear again; the two of them struggled for a minute before Rob sunk his teeth firmly into Vincent's neck. Vincent howled in pain and rage and, with almighty strength, dug his claws into Rob, flinging the wolf off of him. _

_Rob sailed toward the machine and smashed into the glass, breaking it. RJ yelled as he fell out of the machine and felt the shattered glass cut him all over. His shoulders — his neck — his arms — his feet — all of them soon had bloody scratches all over them as RJ slammed into the ground. _

_Panting, the raccoon sat up to find Rob's face inches from his own. The wolf's eyes had a glazed, haunted look. "I'm sorry, RJ," he said weakly ... and closed his eyes forever._

"_No —" RJ gasped, looking around him, first at Hammy, then at Rob. "No, this can't be happening! PLEASE! __**NO!**__"_

"_Oh, it's happening, RJ," came Vincent's triumphant laugh. The bear had stood up again, his confidence back; he laughed triumphantly as he stared down at RJ. "And guess what?" _

_RJ lowered his head, eyes brimming, unable to take it. Vincent reached down and forced RJ's head up so that he and the bear were eye to eye. When Vincent spoke, his last sentence was in a hoarse, satisfied whisper._

"_The rest of your family's next."_

* * *

"No," RJ whispered, tossing in his sleep. "No. No. NO! Hurt ME, not them! _ME_!"

A snapping sound came from somewhere in front of him, and RJ whipped his head up with a gasp, waking suddenly. Willing his heartbeat to slow, he squinted into the darkness. All was calm for a moment ... and then out from the gloom of the rain emerged Hammy, his fur disheveled and soaked. Wordlessly, miserably, the squirrel stepped forward, and RJ enfolded him in a hug. The two of them stayed like that for a long time as the rain poured down around them. RJ didn't say anything, simply letting Hammy sob into his shoulder.

Finally Hammy stepped away, wiping his eyes. RJ placed a paw on his shoulder. "Hammy," he said, and his voice shook. "Hammy, I ... I know how you feel."

"No you don't." The squirrel's reply was so unexpected, so cold, that it stung RJ, and he withdrew his paw from Hammy's shoulder. "You have _no idea_ how I feel, RJ."

"What are you saying?" the raccoon whispered, hurt. "Of course I do. Rob was my friend too, you know."

"There's — there's more to it than that, all right?" Hammy said, trembling slightly. "There's a _lot_ more. You — you don't know what I'm going through."

"What do you mean?"

"I — I — I can't tell you," Hammy choked, shifting uncomfortably. "You — you wouldn't understand."

"Hammy, you're my best friend. What isn't there to understand?"

"A _lot_, all right?" Hammy burst out, stepping backward. RJ reached out a paw toward him, but Hammy continued backing away. "Just leave me _alone!_" the squirrel shouted angrily, and he immediately disappeared in a blur.

"_Hammy!_" RJ shouted after him, and took off running too. RJ knew there was no hope of catching up with Hammy, but he knew that his best bet would be to meet the squirrel where he stopped running. With that in mind, he dashed along the Hedge, following the ruffling leaves in pursuit of Hammy.

RJ splashed through puddles of water and dodged the drenched leaves as he tried desperately to find the squirrel so close to his heart. _I need to find him. It's bad enough losing Rob. I can't lose him too._ RJ increased his speed and continued running, dodging a stray branch that stuck out of the Hedge.

Suddenly a flash of lightning lit up the clearing, and RJ saw his own shadow eerily illuminated within the puddles of water before it disappeared into darkness. But something else had been revealed with the light: RJ saw Hammy scuttling up a nearby tree. The squirrel dashed quickly up the trunk, and then the leaves and branches obscured him from view.

"_Hammy!_" RJ shouted, looking up at the tree. The squirrel couldn't hear him over the howl of rain and wind. "_Get down from there!_"

RJ, spinning on his heel and looking up again, saw Hammy leap out on a branch jutting far above the tree; the squirrel shook himself off and then slowly stood up, barely noticing the rain pouring all around him. Quickly RJ scurried up the tree trunk toward Hammy.

The sound of the storm faded away amid the pounding in RJ's ears. Time slowed down as he leaped off the trunk onto the branch where Hammy stood. RJ was running towards the squirrel — the sky was lit with flashes of lightning — the rain poured down heavily on RJ, drenching his fur — he knew what was about to happen — he could feel the electricity tingling in the air — Hammy was facing outward — suddenly he turned around — his eyes widened as he saw RJ hurrying towards him —

And RJ shoved Hammy out of the way; the squirrel tumbled down to the soft grass, unhurt, and spun around in horror, looking back up at the raccoon. RJ barely had time to lift his head when a searing pain shot through his body as the lightning struck him. The electricity coursed through him, drowning out his scream; the light pulsated around his body with infinite, merciless energy. Hammy cried out in horror below him as RJ's body stiffened and he fell; the ground rushed up to meet him and everything went black as he slammed into it...

* * *

_He was falling, falling, falling into a pit of blackness, the forest around him vanishing into the dark. Streaks of color shot upward as RJ plummeted through the inky void. Gradually the blackness around him faded into a twisted rainbow of reds, oranges and yellows — and RJ saw, drifting toward him through the void, a familiar-looking wolf, smiling serenely._

"_Rob?" said RJ uncertainly. "Is that you?"_

"_Sure is," grinned the wolf, as he continued walking towards the falling raccoon._

"_What — how — am — am I dreaming?" RJ asked, dazed. He hoped he wasn't, as his dreams certainly hadn't been good ones lately._

"_Not dreaming," said Rob, "not exactly. You're going to be reliving your past."_

"_What — no — I don't __**want**__ to relive it!" said RJ, panicking, holding his hands to his head._

"_Oh, I think you do, RJ," said Rob seriously, "and I think you'll find you're a better person for having done so." _

"_I've __**blocked out**__ the past!" said RJ, struggling. "I don't __**want**__ to remember it! Why should I? Give me one good reason!"_

"_Because," said Rob, smiling again, "you don't exactly have a choice." _

"_Oh yes I do," said RJ angrily, and he pinched himself. _

_Nothing happened. He was still drifting through the whirl of colors, Rob still standing in front of him. "Wake up, RJ," the raccoon yelled, pinching himself again, "wake up! __**WAKE UP!**__"_

"_Sorry, RJ," said Rob sympathetically, "but you won't be waking up for awhile. Getting struck by lightning really takes it out of a guy."_

"_Wake — up..." RJ muttered, still pinching his arm in a futile effort._

"_Let's go back a few years," said Rob, "and see what things were like for you then. They're better than you remember."_

"_I don't remember __**anything**__," RJ muttered, blinking._

"_Oh, you will, RJ," smiled Rob, "you will." _

And Rob faded away; the color surrounding RJ vanished into darkness, and RJ knew no more...


	5. Mysteries Abound

"Wake up, RJ! You've been asleep long enough, now it's your turn to help out!"

RJ stirred and opened his eyes. He shut them again almost immediately, however, because sunlight was streaming in through the hole in the tree trunk which he was currently looking out of. Spots danced in his eyelids; he had looked directly at the sun. He groaned. Not a great way to start the day.

"Well, son? You heard your mother. Are you going to get up or will we be waiting here till next century? Because we will wait, you know. No child left behind and all that."

"_Dad_..." RJ groaned, sinking back into his soft pile of leaves again as he heard his father laugh at his own joke. Finally RJ stood up. "Fine, fine, I'm awake... come on, Raymond," he called over his shoulder. "If I have to help out, so do you."

"Mmmmph," came a mumble from the leaf pile behind RJ, as the raccoon stood up. "Okay, okay..."

A raccoon slightly younger than RJ popped out of the pile and gave a cheerful grin. Unlike his brother, Raymond was a morning person. Wheras RJ preferred to go to bed late and get up even later.

RJ sighed. It was true what his parents said: he _was_ becoming a teenager. If sleeping till noon and exchanging banter (both lighthearted and heated) with your parents was any proof. Which it probably was.

"Oh, I cannot get over how much you two look alike," said their mother from outside, peering in through the hole and beaming from ear to ear. "Except the fur tone. RJ, you're a dark brown, and Raymond's —"

"A light brown. Tan. Yes, Mom, you've told us this many times before."

"But the eyes," she murmured, not paying the slightest bit of attention. "Both of you. Such deep and intense blue eyes ... your father's eyes."

The father in question jumped out of the hole in the trunk to meet his mate; he was smiling. "Come now, Jill, it's time to focus. We have a task before us and we have to finish it. Of course, I understand how hard it is to concentrate with these gorgeous eyes gazing at you all day..."

"Oh, Tim, modest as always," laughed Jill, beckoning her children forward. "Follow us, boys."

The four of them scurried down the tree trunk together and onto the forest floor, reverting to all fours for faster running speed — all except for Tim, who with a grunt hoisted up an empty bucket, which was bigger than he was, and carried it over his head, scrambling to keep up with the others. It was the same routine, as it had been, every day, day after day, month after month, year after year. RJ had been collecting food like this for as long as he could remember.

The only thing he didn't understand about the whole process — and he had asked his parents about this many times, and every time they refused him an answer — was _where_ exactly all the fruits, and vegetables, and plants they collected from the forest _went_. Sure, his family had enough to tide them over for awhile; they always did. But they usually ended up collecting two, three times as much food as they kept. So where did the rest of it go?

And RJ resolved that today he would find the answer. Today he _would_ follow his parents and find out what they did with all that food. It certainly couldn't be that bad, could it? His parents were good raccoons. They were honest workers. And as much as RJ refused to say it aloud these days, he loved them. He honestly didn't know what he would do without any of them, including Raymond.

"I'm tired, RJ," his little brother puffed from beside him, still running. "Are we almost there?"

"Raymond, you've only come here every day of your life since you were able to walk. You should know by now."

"Oh yeah, I remember!" chirped the raccoon. "That big tree right there means we're right next to the Field. So we can slow down now, right?"

"That we can," said RJ, as he ceased running and stood up, walking normally again. Raymond followed his lead, and soon the four of them had reached what his family liked to call "their" clearing. Here the natural forest plants, like berries and such, were plentiful, with a large field that was chock-full of fruits and vegetables on the other side of a large wooden structure. A "garden," his parents called it. With "crops". RJ wondered why that meant something.

"You boys know what to do," his father said, smiling. "Ready? One, two, THREE!"

On "three", all of them scattered in different directions; Jill and Tim climbed the fence and into the crop field and began shuffling along, looking for the best fruits and veggies. RJ and Raymond, meanwhile, went through the bushes, picking berries that looked ripe (and eating some of the bigger ones). Anytime the load got too heavy, they deposited it in the bucket that their father had carted along and went back to looking.

"RJ," the raccoon heard his brother say, a couple of bushes away, "let's make this a contest to see who can bring back the most! What say you?"

"I would say yes if you hadn't suggested that every day since we started picking berries," replied RJ, dumping another armload into the bucket. "They only started getting ripe a week ago and you've said this to me, what, nine times?"

"Who's counting?" his brother laughed, popping another berry into his mouth. "It'd just be something to do. You know, to break the monotony of it all."

"It's not monotonous," said RJ, now shuffling through the branches, looking for berries he may have missed. "I find it interesting. There's always something new going on every day. Sometimes it's grapes, sometimes it's strawberries, sometimes it's oranges, sometimes it's pears ... and speaking of which, we'd better look through these trees. They should be ripe too by now."

So RJ and Raymond grabbed the bucket, climbed the fence, scaled a couple of trunks and jumped through the branches from tree to tree, picking the pears, apples and other fruits off and chucking them into the bucket below. They were careful not to miss; any bruised pears couldn't be used and had to be thrown out. RJ had learned that the hard way several years ago, when he had started to practice dive-bombing the fruit into the bucket. His parents' reaction to that wasn't something he wanted to live through again.

"Okay, I think that's everything for now," Raymond called to him a few hours later, by which time the sun was shining brightly in the middle of the sky. RJ wiped his brow; he was sweating. "We should see if Mom and Dad need any help."

"That we do!" said Jill from below, having heard their conversation. "Grab the bucket and follow us. There's a really good crop over the next fence."

"Will do," called RJ, and he and Raymond followed accordingly. Ignoring the sign that said, HARVEST FIELDS, KEEP OUT (RJ never knew what that meant, anyway), the four raccoons scaled the next fence and were soon running through the fields, picking out husks of corn from the tall stalks, pulling up carrots, radishes, and beets from the ground; digging up celery, lettuce, broccoli — not too much, of course, just enough to fill the bucket.

"These won't even be missed," said Tim cheerfully, still several hours later, as he dropped the last of the vegetables into the bucket. "All right everyone," he called, "bucket's full. You know what that means — quittin' time!"

"But we're having _so_ much fun ..." RJ said sarcastically, wiping his brow yet again. Thank goodness the sun was starting to set; he was boiling.

"Hoo boy, I'm tired," said Raymond, coming toward the three of them. "Long day today."

"Well, it's not over yet," his father puffed, struggling with the bucket. "I'm gonna need all of your guys' help to get this thing back. Ready?"

"First let's make sure the food is nicely crammed-in," said Jill cheerfully, reaching inside the almost-overflowing bucket. She fiddled around with it for awhile before saying, "All right, everything's in order. Let's go!"

With another grunt, RJ lifed the bottom of the bucket with his dad, while at the other end Jill and Raymond took the top. True to Jill's word, the bucket was packed firmly and didn't spill. Carrying it horizontally over their heads, the four of them made the long treck back through the field, over the fence (which required some fancy handling of the bucket), and through the forest back to their tree. By the time they had made it, the sun was fully set and the stars had started to emerge in the night sky. RJ made a mental wish as he saw the first one: _I want to find out what my parents are up to ... I'm pretty sure it isn't anything bad, though._

"We're back!" said Jill cheerfully, bringing RJ back to reality. Carefully the four of them set the bucket upright again. Tim then climbed up the side and burrowed into the pile, tossing out a few good fruits and veggies while keeping the rest inside. Presently he had emptied a quarter of the bucket, and RJ and Raymond gathered up the foods he had tossed out.

"Okay, guys, you know the drill," said Tim as he and Jill hoisted the (now considerably lighter) bucket up on their shoulders again. "RJ, you and Raymond store the food you have in the tree while we —"

"Go off to store the rest, yes, we know," Raymond smiled, and scurried up the trunk without a backward glance.

"Be careful," warned Jill as she and Tim strolled away, disappearing through the dense foliage of the forest. RJ spared one last glance back at them, making a mental note, then followed Raymond up the tree to their hollow, where he stashed the food in their usual stack.

"Our crop seems to be running a little low this year," RJ's brother commented as he counted out pears. "Did you notice?"

"Hmm?" muttered RJ, distracted. "Oh. No. Um..." He needed to get out there quickly if he had any hope of following Mom and Dad. Barely realizing what he was doing, RJ tossed the food into the stack without counting it and went back to the hole, scurring through it to the edge of a large tree branch.

"Hey, RJ, where are you going?" he barely heard Raymond call.

"I ... have some business to take care of," RJ called back semi-truthfully, and turned his gaze downward. There! He could just make out his parents walking through the grass, still carrying their faithful bucket, in a clearing some distance away. If he strained his ears, RJ could hear them talking. And their voices sounded worried. Determined to find out once and for all what they were doing, RJ scuttled down the trunk and made for the clearing.

* * *

"RJ," shouted Hammy, "_RJ!_ Can you hear us?"

All of the Hedgies had gathered round the unconscious raccoon, back in the little area that they called home. They had placed him on a blanket and treated his burns with a small first-aid kit. They had been relieved to discover that RJ was still breathing. But for how long? Would he ever regain consciousness?

"_RJ!_" shouted Hammy again, exhausted, "_please_ wake up!"

"It's no good, Hammy," sighed Verne, holding his head in his hands, "he can't hear us."

"Is — is Uncle RJ gonna be all right, Mom?" asked Spike nervously, as he and his siblings clung to each other.

"Of — of course, dear," said Penny nervously, even though she had know way of knowing.

Katrina listened to RJ's heart with a tiny (but functional) toy stethoscope; her face was grim and serious. "His heart's still beating," she said, "but it's slowing down."

"S-s-slowing down?" said Marissa nervously. "But it — it won't _stop_, will it?"

"I don't know, Marissa," said Katrina quietly, removing the stethoscope, "I just don't know."

"Of course it won't," said Hammy firmly. "RJ's been through worse than this. He'll survive. I know it."

But behind the squirrel's confident features, Hammy was more nervous than ever. Could he live without RJ? Hammy doubted he could, not anymore. And it was _his fault_ if RJ died —

Hammy suppressed a sob. He didn't exactly know what — what this feeling he was experiencing, as he watched RJ's chest rise and fall steadily, was. All he knew was that RJ _needed_ to wake up — for his own sake as much as Hammy's.

"Please don't die, RJ," the squirrel pleaded softly, as he sat down and wrapped his paws around his legs. "It wouldn't be very nice of you to prove us wrong."


	6. Mysteries Explained

Not even aware that he was re-experiencing something that had happened to him ages ago, RJ hurried to keep up with his parents. He had just about overtaken them and was now in a thicket only several feet away. Here he could hear their voices much more clearly, and the raccoon's ears strained as he caught the last of their conversation.

"—says nothing's changed," Tim was muttering to his wife seriously. "We're expected to produce the same results."

"Tim, have you _seen_ it?" hissed RJ's mother, her voice almost hysterical. "It's getting smaller and smaller every year. Pretty soon there won't be any results to _produce_, not if the humans —"

A twig snapped under RJ's foot and he cringed; his parents suddenly stopped talking. RJ could tell from the rustling noises ahead of him that they were looking behind them. The young raccoon held his breath and prayed that they won't come investigating ... then his parents must have decided that it was just the wind because they resumed walking, and began discussing their situation again.

RJ exhaled. That had been way too close. If he was going to find out the truth about their situation, he needed to be much more aware of himself. Shaking his head, he set off again, being extra careful this time not to make the slightest sound.

The night around the three raccoons was quiet, save for the odd chirp of a cricket or hooting of a forest owl. A breeze rustled through the trees, stirring the leaves and branches, and RJ shivered. Hopefully they would be heading back soon; it was uncomfortable to sleep in the tree but at least it was warm in their makeshift beds. Before he could concentrate too much on getting cold, however, his parents stopped — and, still careful not to make any noise, RJ crouched under a bush and waited.

He could just see them through the leaves: they had set the bucket back down and were looking around anxiously, as if they were waiting for someone. The full moon shone down on them, creating a ghostly light; Jill turned around and gasped in shock until she realized it was her own shadow she was looking out. Willing herself to calm down, Jill took several deep breaths, and Tim wrapped his arms around her for comfort.

Nothing happened for perhaps two minutes. RJ was growing acutely uncomfortable under the bush; his legs were cramping and he longed to stand up and stretch. He was just about to give up and head back to the tree when —

"Well, well, well," rumbled a deep, chuckling voice, and Tim and Jill whirled around. Behind them, RJ gasped and instinctively clamped a hand over his mouth; he had never heard a voice like that before. It was cold, icy, and haunting — a voice of darkness and nightmares. Whoever owned this voice had reared up behind Tim and Jill, its shadow huge and menacing. Jill clutched Tim closer to her.

"Vincent," said RJ's father. His voice was calm, but shook slightly. He regarded the shadow, which was several times taller than he and Jill both were, with a look of composure, despite the ominous, huffy breath that emerged from it and left foggy clouds in the cold night air.

"Who else?" came the voice of this Vincent, and the shadow took a step forward, gradually emerging into the moonlight. RJ gasped again behind his hand: A bear. His parents were dealing with a full-grown, towering, nightmarish black bear. Vincent smiled at them, though there was no happiness behind it. It was a leer, a mocking smile, like he was about to trick them. Which he probably was.

"You have it? The food?" he asked them simply, still with that evil smile, and watched Tim and Jill as they set down the bucket in front of him. Both raccoons were shivering — RJ tried to convince himself it was because of the cold night, but he knew better. Vincent stepped forward to take the bucket and Tim and Jill hastily retreated back a few feet, trying to keep a safe distance.

The bear dug through the bucket of food for awhile, occasionally popping out something to munch on, but suddenly he slammed it down again. The smile was gone from his face, to be replaced with a sneer of disgust. "Is this it?" he snorted. "Nothing more?"

Jill and Tim exchanged panicked looks. "Um — n-nothing more," Jill stammered.

"This is less than half of what I expected!" the bear snarled, standing up in a rage; he smacked the bucket with a paw and it flew aside, the food scattering everywhere. "You two simpletons should know that you have to do better!"

"If we know anything, it's that you shouldn't feel like you're _entitled_ to _any_ of this!" Tim burst out suddenly, to Jill's shock.

A deathly silence fell over the clearing. Vincent was staring at the two raccoons, breathing hard, while Jill had a look of utter terror on her face. Tim looked like he was beginning to regret his choice of words; he averted his gaze from the bear and bit his tongue nervously, still shivering.

"Do we have to go over this again?" Vincent began, in a deadly whisper. "Of course I am entitled to this. And furthermore, I am entitled to much, much more than this."

Vincent reared down so that he and RJ's father were eye to eye. "You, Tim, stole from my stash of food years ago. You thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. And do you know _how_ I noticed?"

The bear raised his head again and sat down on his haunches, the evil sneer back on his face. "Because after _you_ made off with part of the stash, the other forest animals saw what you did and got cocky. They _all_ stole from me. All of my food was gone when I woke up from hibernation." He chuckled evilly, sending shivers down RJ's spine. "And when I tracked you down, the only reason I kept you alive is because you promised to pay me back like this."

"I wasn't encouraging anybody, it just ... happened!" Tim shouted suddenly. "_I_ was trying to feed my parents! They couldn't get their own food; they'd been run over by the humans in their diesel trucks!"

"How ironic, then, that these parents of yours died two days later and it was all for nothing," Vincent snapped back. "I can only hope that whatever sorry offspring _you_ have has learned from _you_ and your family's stupid mistake. Any raccoon who tries to steal from me now will deeply, deeply regret it."

"Many already have," muttered Jill, not looking at either of them.

"Look," Tim began, and RJ could tell he was trying to act sensible, rational. "For the thousandth time, _I'm sorry_, okay?" Both he and Jill were breathing hard, trying to calm themselves down. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand this way and you know it. And besides, whatever food you lost has been paid back by now." And finally Tim raised his head and looked Vincent dead in the eye for the first time. "In triplicate."

"Does that make you think I'm letting you off the hook?" said Vincent smoothly, silkily. "Because I'm not. You will continue gathering food for me for the rest of your sorry little life. That was the agreement."

"I — you —" Tim was angry now, frustrated. Suddenly he burst out, "Why should we give you _anything?_ You don't scavenge for food like we do! You don't work for it! You trick animals, you con them out of it, you lie for it, you gamble for it, you do everything you can except _real work!_"

"Whereas _you_ just steal food from the humans," Vincent snarled back. "Not much better, is it?"

"Compared to you?" Jill shouted, to the surprise of everyone else. "Loads better. Humans _deserve_ to be stolen from. And it's _you_ who's making us do the stealing. It's _your own fault!_"

"I suppose you're going to tell me now that it's my own fault that the bucketload is _three times less than usual_?" growled Vincent, rearing up on his hind legs again.

"You _**IDIOT!**_" screamed Tim, and a few birds around the clearing took to the night air, squawking indignantly. RJ's father ignored them and plowed right on. "You think this comes easy to us, don't you? That it's no effort at all to gather all this? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. High and Mighty, it's hard to begin with and it gets harder every year! The humans are taking over! Why do you think _we_ think they deserve being stolen from? It's because they're _WIPING US OUT!_"

The raccoon was pacing now, breathing hard; while in front of him, Vincent wore a look of stunned shock. Unabashed, Tim continued, "They're plowing through our fields, building housing complexes, destroying thousands of acres of habitats and forest foods! They've squashed dozens of animals, including my own family, in those five-ton vehicles of theirs! And now _our_ family is starting to go hungry just because _they_ think they need more space!" Tim stopped pacing and faced Vincent again; he had lost all sense of reason and was shouting now, senselessly, mercilessly. "Both _you_ AND _the humans _— you're — _**YOU'RE STARVING US!**_"

The last of Tim's words echoed round the clearing into the night, over the sounds of the squawking birds and odd cricket chirps. The raccoon looked down and shut his eyes, still breathing hard, bitter tears leaking between his eyelids. "You're starving us," he whispered again, and Jill placed a comforting hand round his shoulders. "Us. My family."

Vincent blinked, then a fierce rumble welled up from within his throat. "Be that as it may," he began angrily, "you are still expected to produce results. And for your little rant, I think I'll double the requirement."

Jill looked up at the bear and gasped. "Double? Oh, no, Vincent, you can't —"

"Double the requirement. One month to get it. You know what will happen if you can't."

With that, the bear turned, lowered himself to all fours and padded out of the clearing. Gradually the crackling sound of leaves and bushes faded away as he left, and soon all was quiet in the clearing once more. Tim and Jill stood there for a moment, not moving, while RJ remained crouched under the bush behind them, stunned, unsure of what to do.

"I couldn't stop myself," Tim whispered to Jill, wrapping his arms around her. "I just couldn't."

"It's okay, Tim," Jill said, trying to reassure her husband, though her voice shook. "We'll — we'll make ends meet somehow."

"What will this do to the kids?" Tim gasped; he didn't seem to have heard her. "RJ — Raymond — they'll starve. I can't see them suffer just because of me."

"Don't _worry_, Tim," Jill said, cupping her husband's chin up; Tim looked into her eyes reluctantly. "We can do this if we just try," Jill whispered. "We can't let Vincent win again."

Tim looked past Jill to where Vincent had left; a trail of cracked twigs and crushed leaves remained where he had crashed through the undergrowth. Tim stared hard at the scene, before finally muttering, "No."

He turned back to Jill and hugged her tight. "No, we can't. We can't let him win."

The last of Tim's words was a whisper, so quiet RJ barely heard it.

"Not again."

RJ stood up, his eyes wide; he wanted to call out to his parents, to talk to them, to ask them questions, to say _something_ — and as he opened his mouth to speak, his parents started to fade away.

RJ blinked. He was losing sight of them. But how could that be? "No. Wait! _Dad! Mom!_"

Tim and Jill were far away now. They couldn't hear him.

"_Mom! Dad!_"

A mist was obscuring his parents from view. RJ suddenly felt like the world was tilting. He was skidding. Falling. Colors were swirling around him. Everything was confused...

* * *

_...and before RJ knew it, the colors around him had twisted into the void that he had just left, and Rob had reappeared in front of him. The smile was gone from the wolf's face, to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. "You know, RJ," he said when he saw the raccoon, "I'm starting to see a lot of similarities between your parents' life and your own."_

"_Yeah, whatever. Like father, like son, right?" RJ asked him sarcastically. "And that was supposed to be 'better than I remembered', huh? If that's better, then I'd hate to see the worse."_

"_You _were_ happy, though," Rob reasoned. "At least, before Vincent came along. You had some good times with your family."_

"_I suppose," said RJ thoughtfully, as he reflected on the food gathering. "So, can I wake up now?"_

"_No, not yet," replied Rob, smiling once more. "I'm sorry to see that you didn't enjoy your first trip down Memory Lane, but maybe this next one will help you out more."_

"_Help me out?" asked RJ, as the void began to fade away again. "You mean there's some point to all this?"_

"_Of course there is," Rob grinned — and then he vanished for the second time._


	7. Making Connections

Alone in the clearing, Katrina sighed as she cast off her little toy stethoscope and sat in front of the car-seat chair that RJ had called home so many times. Somehow, it felt more right to be sitting in front of the chair, rather than actually in it. That was a spot reserved only for RJ, and as he was currently in no state to occupy it, then no one would.

Katrina rubbed her eyes tiredly. None of the Hedgies had gotten much sleep since the storm; all of them were far too concerned for RJ, and deep in mourning for Rob. Too fast, everything had happened too fast. It wasn't enough that one of their best friends was taken from them; slowly, gradually, RJ was falling away as well. Katrina folded her arms and shivered: the night air was cold, and her fur only offered minimal protection. Yet she knew the cold was only part of it.

All was silent in the clearing: there was no breeze in the wind, no sound from the sleeping suburbs. Katrina felt tears stinging her eyes as she tried so hard not to let the sorrow overwhelm her. She and Marissa needed to stay strong, for RJ's sake. Having spent years in an animal-testing lab, the sisters knew a lot about caring for the injured, and if they wanted to have any hope for RJ, then they had to help him out of his coma.

Rarely had Katrina felt so helpless. She had all of this knowledge at her disposal, but she couldn't _use_ any of it. Oh, sure, she knew that RJ had to stay warm, and be supervised at all times, and his vital signs monitored to make sure he didn't — didn't — well, anyway, the point was that there was nothing more she or Marissa could do for the raccoon. Neither of them, nor any of the Hedgies, knew how to get RJ _conscious_ again. All they could do was wait and hope. And Katrina was tired of just waiting.

Suddenly her eyes shot open again. Of course! If they couldn't treat RJ, they would get treatment _for_ him. An idea was gathering rapidly in Katrina's mind, and she stood up resolutely, making for the glade in which the Hedgies were gathered around RJ. If she was right about her plan — and she sincerely hoped she was — then she would need help. She certainly was determined enough, but the fact remained that she couldn't travel that far by herself. She'd need assistance.

Her arrival went unnoticed by many of the Hedgies; however, Marissa spotted her and quickly arrived at her side. She had recognized that spark in her sister's eyes. "Another plan, right?"

"Yup," said Katrina determinedly, and turned to face the rest of the group. Raising her voice, she called, "I have an announcement to make!"

"Yay! Another plan! Another plan!" squealed Marissa, twirling in circles and clapping her hands. Katrina smiled in spite of herself. Her sister, the eternal optimist, could make any moment more cheerful. However, Katrina's smile quickly faded under the somber gazes of her friends. She pulled Marissa to her side; her sister quickly stopped celebrating, though a sparkle of adventure remained in her eyes.

"The two of us are going on a mission to finish what Rob, Hammy and RJ started," Katrina began seriously, and she heard Marissa gasp quietly from beside her. "We're finding Dr. Parker and we'll get him here; he can cure RJ." No one moved or spoke as she looked at each Hedgie in turn. "However, we're rats. And we can't do it by ourselves." Marissa blinked. "So who's with us?"

The Hedgies looked at each other with concern, and Katrina understood: They wanted to help — as families were wont to do — but they also were loath to leave RJ, their leader, in such a vulnerable state. Silence echoed round the glade for several moments as each Hedgie considered. Finally two voices from the back spoke up together. "We're in."

And effortlessly, gracefully, John and Snowy leaped over the remaining Hedgies and landed in front of Katrina and Marissa, smiling. They swept a front paw to their chests and bowed. "At your service, miladies," John said solemnly, though still smiling.

Katrina felt herself blush under her fur. Marissa, however, was totally unaffected, and turning to her sister she chirped, "Cats and rats. An unlikely friendship, isn't it?"

"Very," Snowy laughed, extending a paw. "Here, hop on."

Katrina cautiously took her paw and Snowy slung the rat up onto her shoulders; John made to do the same with Marissa but she suddenly shouted "Wait!" and promptly dashed out of the clearing into the night. Before the three of them had time to wonder what had happened, she had dashed back to them, a newspaper clipping clutched in her paw. "RJ had the address to the SPCA building!" she said, waving it above her. "It's not too far from here!"

"Let me see that," said Katrina, reaching for the clipping, but Marissa jerked it back sharply, saying fiercely, "Nuh uh. No way." She climbed onto John's shoulders and glared at Katrina. "_I_ will be giving the directions, thank you. I may not be the best but I'm better than _some_ people."

Katrina flushed. "If you're referring to that wrong turn we took during Escape Attempt #4," she began, "that _wasn't_ my fault —"

The rest of her words were cut off as Snowy leaped forward, after John. Marissa had given him the address on the clipping, and he and Snowy now bounded through the forest and burst through the hedge, flooding the four of them with leaves and branches. "Bye, Steve!" said Marissa, turning back to wave at the hedge, and John and Snowy rolled their eyes.

"You've been talking with Hammy, haven't you?" Katrina shouted to her sister as the two cats pounded down the suburban streets.

* * *

RJ sank into his past once more, the void around him vanishing (along with his awareness of the dream). Blearily he raised his head and looked around. He was lying down in a meadow, the sun blazing in the sky directly above him. RJ yawned and rubbed his eyes. He must have slept till at least late morning — too late, as far as he was concerned. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Did something happen to —

Suddenly his memories came rushing back to him and he let out a groan. He remembered now: he had stayed out late trying to find more food for the stockpile. Now that Vincent had been starving his family for a good couple of weeks, he, Raymond, Tim and Jill were doing everything they could to make ends meet while still feeding themselves. It wasn't going too well — for one thing, the four of them were always hungry now, and for another, his parents had noticed that RJ seemed very distant with them.

_They assume it's because we're all half-starved_, RJ reflected as he stood up shakily, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Reluctantly he picked up the small bucket his parents had nicked for him (they were gathering separately now, rather than together, figuring it'd be more efficient) and looked inside: it was barely half full. RJ resisted the urge to pop a few fruits into his mouth and concentrated on dragging the container behind him, back toward his home.

He must have fallen asleep out here, trying to gather all the food, and his exhaustion had made him sleep through almost half the day. _My parents think I'm mad at them_, the raccoon realized as he slipped through the fence and back into the forest. _They think I think it's their fault we're hungry. Oh, boy, if they only knew..._

RJ supposed it was his own fault that he kept staying out late. He had followed his parents and discovered the reason behind their food gathering, and it was this knowledge now that tortured him and pushed him to gather more and more food for the family. A noble thing to do, perhaps, but it was coming at the cost of his own health. RJ stumbled woozily: he was exhausted, both from staying out late and the lack of regular nutrition. He was either very brave or very stupid to try and gather so much food when it was so hard to come by. Probably the latter, though.

A rustling came from in front of the raccoon and he stopped, instinctively jumping behind the nearest tree and pressing his back against the bark. He hugged the food tightly to his chest. There were voices coming from a small clearing in the forest — a clearing that he had been about to pass through, but that was no longer an option as far as RJ was concerned. His ear twitched as he strained to pick up what the voices were saying, and he nearly gasped out loud: He recognized one. It was Vincent.

"...it's not _nearly_ enough," the bear was saying to an unknown accomplice, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And they won't be able to meet the deadline, it's obvious. Why do you think they call it a _dead_line?"

"You're not really going to kill them, are you, boss?" This voice was deep too, and noble. RJ recognized it as a stag that he had sometimes seen walking through the forest, conversing somewhat with various critters — though he and RJ had never talked face-to-face. The raccoon had never really bothered to know much about the stag ... so why did it come as such a surprise that he was working for Vincent?

"Nah, not all of them, anyway. But when they're unable to produce the results, then it'll be the _entire family_ serving me, not just the two raccoons. And actually, I might just knock off that youngest brat of theirs — if only to shut him up. The oldest kit, though — he's somethin' special. Got a knack for food. It's always obvious which fruits are his; he picks the ripest and cleanest ones. Got a good eye."

"A good tongue, more like. Seems like you've been _spying_, boss."

"Of course I have," Vincent snapped back, and RJ closed his eyes, shaking with a combination of fear and rage — fear, because it had turned out he was being watched, and rage because of what Vincent had threatened Raymond with. "You don't get to know the best in the business without observing them. See how they work. _Learn_ from them, even."

"So now you're taking lessons from a raccoon?" RJ heard the barest hint of humor in the stag's voice.

"Lessons that I _pass onto the others_," Vincent snarled. "You know I never have to do the dirty work myself, James. That's the beauty of this operation."

"Operation. Nice term," said James the stag conversationally. "Speaking of which, I have a couple new recruits you may be interested in. They mentioned they'd like to work with you."

"Fine. As long as it's not too many. I don't want to be overwhelmed here," said Vincent, almost as an afterthought.

"Yes, well, anyway, I have two frogs, a kangaroo that escaped from the zoo, three rats —"

"No rats," Vincent interrupted with another snarl. "I don't work with rats."

"But —"

"_No rats, do you hear me?_" Vincent howled, a tinge of hysteria in the bear's voice. "I _loathe_ the creatures. They're filthy. Ridden with parasites. Any operation of mine is better without them."

"Whatever you say, Vincent," said James smoothly. "Now, to continue, I also have six alley cats and a toad —"

RJ missed the rest because he beat a hasty path around the clearing as fast as his legs would carry him. He barely even noticed that he was taking the detour; his mind spun with what he had just heard. Vincent had set the food requirement for his parents too high on purpose, just so that the entire family would have to serve him forever. His agreement with Tim and Jill hadn't been good enough for him, so he had set a trap. It was an agreement his family couldn't get out of.

But even more chilling, Vincent wanted _him_. He thought RJ had talent and he was planning to use it. _That_ was why he wanted the whole family's servitude — he wanted to capitalize on RJ's skill. RJ felt his blood boil at the thought. What right did Vincent have to assume RJ would become his servant? What right did he have to "knock off" Raymond? Who did he think he —

In RJ's rage, he didn't look where he was going and he promptly collided with a large mass of fur. "Oof!" both he and his unknown companion said, falling backwards, and the contents of RJ's bucket spilled. Hastily he scrambled to his feet and began shoveling the food back in. "I'm sorry —" he began, but —

"Do watch where you're going RJ," said Tim conversationally as he stood up, also carting a bucket of food. "Nearly plowed straight through me there."

RJ relaxed. "Sorry, Dad. Where's Mom?"

"Oh, off in a clearing somewhere gathering with Raymond," said Tim, waving a hand behind him. "The two of them should be back soon. I just stopped to empty my food bucket so I can refill. Need help with yours?"

"Uh, sure," said RJ. He and Tim finished refilling RJ's bucket, then the two of them scurried up the tree trunk together and jumped into their little living hole. With a grunt, RJ heaved his bucket upward, tilting it, and all of the contents spilled out onto the pile in the middle of their living space, a pile of food that, while large, was not nearly big enough for Vincent.

And it wasn't growing nearly as fast as it needed to.

"This should do it," said Tim with cheery, albeit false, optimism, as he did the same with his own bucket. "We should be all filled up in no time now. Once we do that we can replenish ourselves —"

"Dad. Stop," RJ said testily, and his father turned to face him, surprised. RJ shifted uncomfortably, but he knew the moment of truth had come. "Just ... just _stop_, okay? I know our situation. I know why we need all this food but we can't eat it. You don't have to pretend to be cheerful. It's hopeless."

Tim dropped his bucket, stunned. It clattered to the floor and rolled away, neither raccoon paying it the slightest bit of attention.

There was silence in the tree trunk for a moment, as father and son stared intently at each other. RJ felt his eyes water, but he was determined not to back down. And finally, Tim spoke. "So," he said, all pretenses of false optimism gone from his voice. "You know about Vincent."

RJ nodded feebly; words failed him at this point.

"And you know what we have to do with the food we gather."

Another nod.

"Well then," said Tim quietly, placing a hand on RJ's shoulder, "you should also know that it's _not_ hopeless." RJ raised his eyebrows, not saying anything, but Tim continued on. "Any problem can overwhelm you if you look at it from one side like that. But when you start looking for different ways to solve it — _that's_ when it stops being hopeless."

Tim dropped his hand from RJ's shoulder, picked up his bucket and headed for the entrance to the den, leaving RJ alone with his thoughts. At the last minute Tim turned around from outside and smiled at his son. "Your mother believes in you, RJ. I do too. How can that be hopeless?"

And then he was gone.

And though RJ didn't know it, that was the last time he would ever see his father alive.

The young raccoon sat down inside the den and rested his hands on his knees. He raised one and massaged his forehead. It sounded like his father was asking him to think outside the box. For lack of a better term, anyway. All right, RJ was willing to do that. The question was, where to start? He needed food. They all did. They needed lots of it. It was the only way they could ever hope to please Vincent.

When his family _really_ needed food, they would scavenge in fields owned by humans. The humans deserved this, however, because they were stealing the _animals'_ food. Well, okay, they weren't stealing, but they were _obliterating._ Wiping out whole areas of the forest just so they could have more living space. Space for houses, supermarkets, restaurants, gas stations, airports — wait a minute!

RJ suddenly brightened; an idea was dawning on him. The humans were erasing _animal_ food ... but they were coming up with their own! They had entire buildings stocked full of the stuff! Much more than they needed, but that was beside the point. Humans had food, and RJ's family didn't. They needed it more than the humans. And that, in RJ's opinion, settled the matter.

He'd have to steal from the humans _directly_.

* * *

"So, you know the way?" said Snowy from beside John as the two of them continued through the streets of suburbia, having slowed to a fast walk to catch their breath. Marissa was sleeping on John's shoulders; Katrina was a little more alert, but was still extremely tired. She yawned as she rubbed her eyes to try and wake herself up a little.

"Yeah, we just have to go out the main entrance and go around a couple turns," replied John. "We should be nearly there by now..."

The foursome rounded a street corner and spotted the main intersection at the end of the road, framed by the sunrise on the horizon. Katrina couldn't help remembering the last time she had seen a sunrise like that: She had been on board a falling helicopter, had about thirty animals crowded around her, and heard explosions peppering the air around them. Yet for some reason, she felt less secure — less _happy_ — right now, than she had then. Maybe it had been the euphoria of finally escaping the lab, maybe it was the fact that she had had a solid leader to follow, but now — now all she could find was anxiety and loneliness. She had her friends with her of course, two of whom she had known her whole life. And all of them were very loyal to each other. But she couldn't help feeling that the four of them were, for all intents and purposes, alone.

Very alone.

This feeling was further amplified when Snowy suddenly halted, about halfway down the street, and raised a paw. "Sssh," she whispered. "Do you hear something?"

Three pairs of ears twitched. John reached onto his back and gently shook Marissa, and she twitched hers halfheartedly as well. The sound was coming from the house to their left. Whispers. Drifting through the still morning air.

At a silent signal from John, Snowy crouched down on the ground into the stalking position that cats could hold like no other animal. Slowly she and John inched forward, across the glass of the front lawn, through the shrubbery planted in front of the house, until finally their ears had guided them to underneath an open window. Katrina dared a quick look above her into the house, but she couldn't see the two humans that were talking to each other. She could hear them, though. And their voices were thick with emotion.

"...been looking all over the area. The neighborhood. The school. All the local hangouts — Andy, he's just ... just ... _gone._" The woman's voice sounded caring. Concerned. Anxious. And heartbroken. Katrina heard her sob softly.

"They'll _find_ him, Rebecca," came Andy's reply. The woman's husband was attempting to soothe her, but his voice shook. "The police, they're — they're good at what they do. They'll rescue him in no time. He'll be back soon. You'll see."

"What are we going to _do?_" Rebecca gasped shrilly, and Katrina knew she was weeping. "Our son — our only son — missing — where _is_ he? What has he _done?_"

"Nothing worth getting — getting upset over," Andy said, trying to sound cheerful, but he was beginning to break down as well. "He'll be _fine._ He's been gone from home longer than this, you know it."

"But that was on school trips! He's _never_ been out by himself, on the streets, _alone!_" Rebecca was losing control now, her weeping growing stronger. "Andy, what if he's — if he's —"

"Don't even _think_ about that," her husband said firmly, cutting her off, and Rebecca's sobs stopped abruptly. The animals outside heard slight shuffling sounds and knew that Andy had wrapped his arms around his wife. "Rebecca, please listen to me. Everything will be all right. Rob is —" his breath caught. "He — he knows things. He'll find his way home. He always has." There was an uncomfortable pause, then Andy cleared his throat, swallowing a sob, and added, "And he always will."

Katrina's vision was blurred and her eyes were stinging. Blindly she lowered herself to Snowy's ear. "We need to leave." There was no response from the cat. "_Now!_" Katrina gasped, pleadingly, imploringly.

"We have to let them know the truth," John whispered as he bowed his head, tears leaking from his eyes as well. "They can't go on like this."

"It's _not our place!_" Katrina gasped, raising her paws to her head, willing the emotion to subside. "We can't _possibly_ tell them —"

"Then _who else will_?" said Snowy, suddenly fierce, her eyes blazing as she whipped around to face Katrina. "We're the only ones who know what happened to him. We're the only ones that can ever tell _any_body!"

"Stop arguing," came a soft voice from atop John's back, and silence abruptly descended on the foursome. Marissa had curled herself up into a ball, and she was shivering. "Let's just go," she choked. When there was no response she began shaking harder. "_Please_," she added, voice broken.

There was no sound or movement for several moments, then Snowy suddenly turned around, away from the house, away from the end of the street, away from their current direction — and she began running. Running faster than she ever had before. Katrina grabbed onto the cat's shoulders as she heard John follow behind her, and hoped Marissa had the sense to do the same. The two larger animals turned corner after corner, seemingly without rhyme or reason, and Katrina knew they were running to escape their feelings as much as their location. And she also knew that no matter how much _any_ of them tried, their emotions would catch up to them eventually.

Snowy and John continued to pound through the suburban streets, never slowing and never stopping. Block after block they ran, turning corners without slowing down or pausing to figure out where they were going. Katrina raised her head as they hung a sharp left — and suddenly a familiar sight loomed in front of them. The hedge was at the end of this street. It obviously wasn't the place they had just left, however; the layout was different. _It must be the opposite end_, Katrina figured.

Suddenly she glimpsed something, an unfamiliar object placed just in front of the Hedge. She looked at it a little more closely and suddenly, in an abrupt tone, she said to Snowy, "Stop."

When the cat did not respond, Katrina lowered herself directly into her ear again, and shouted, "_STOP!_"

Snowy suddenly skidded to a halt, nearly throwing Katrina off her shoulders; and behind them they heard John do the same. Katrina expected Marissa to yell in alarm, maybe even laugh and make a joke about it, but when she turned around her sister had a blank, mute look on her face, clutching John's ears as she peered through them. She was focusing on the object in front of the Hedge. Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. "This is bad."

Katrina turned around, and she took a long, hard look at the object. It was a sign. A large, white sign with large, red lettering printed on it. Katrina felt a nasty feeling growing in the pit of her stomach as she read it.

Things were _very_ bad.

_FUTURE DEVELOPMENT ZONE_

_El Rancho Camelot Estates_

_Be prepared in the coming months for the sight of a new local landmark!_

_**THE "KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE" SHOPPING MALL!**_

_The epitome of perfection will loom from the center of Camelot, as customers will at last have a place to talk, laugh and shop with their friends. Call 1-888-226-3568 for more information!_

_Clearing away of the forest area to commence in one weeks' time._

_Construction to begin in three weeks._


	8. Lost in the Supermarket

RJ beheld the awesome glory of the huge sign standing above him: "8-Twelve. Open 24 hours."

If he was successful in raiding this place, his family would have ample food to satisfy both the bear and themselves — the store was _enormous_. RJ was marveling at the sheer size of it when suddenly a batch of humans rounded the corner. RJ dove behind a trash can and watched as the store's front doors opened when the humans walked in front of them. Careful not to be seen, RJ scurried after them as the doors shut.

Unfortunately, the doors shut right on his tail.

RJ's eyes widened and he would have yelped in pain had he not clamped a hand over his mouth; turning around, he struggled uselessly with his tail. He pulled, pushed on the doors, pounded the glass silently with his fists — nothing gave. Finally RJ plastered his feet against the doors and pulled; his tail came loose abruptly and he skidded across the floor into a stack of large, plastic red baskets, which promptly fell over him with a terrible series of thuds.

"So much for not being noticed," he muttered to himself.

"What's going on?" came a deep voice, and RJ froze in terror. Luckily, a basket had landed on top of RJ, trapping him inside and hiding him from the human that came to check on the baskets. He wore a strange uniform that had the store's logo on the shirt; RJ watched his feet move around the basket stacks and waited until the human's back was turned, then scooted away. If any person had chanced to look, they would have seen a little red basket inching its way toward the produce section; fortunately, the humans didn't notice.

RJ tossed the basket off of himself and hid behind a shelf stocked with food. It was all the stuff RJ had come to know and love: fruits and vegetables and the like. He picked out numerous things — apples, some carrots, batches of corn — and had a fairly large stack with him before he finally deemed it enough for now (he figured he'd have to make multiple trips). The raccoon then turned away and hid under the basket again, inching his way toward the exit.

However, RJ's curiosity got the better of him and he turned around to look at the rest of the store. What he saw made him drop the food in his hands: aisles and aisles of food stretched across the entire length of the 8-Twelve. RJ, inching closer, saw in wonderment that it wasn't even _regular_ food. It was all — processed.

RJ chanced throwing the basket off himself to pick out a plastic can from the bottom shelf. Carefully he read the label. "Spuddies? Never heard of them." He sniffed the can. Whatever these things were — according to the label they were actually potatoes — they smelled _delicious_. RJ pulled the top off; it made a satisfying hiss. He then picked a chip out and tasted it with a crunch.

The raccoon's eyes widened suddenly as he bit into the chip; he was convinced that heaven had blossomed inside his mouth. Whatever the humans did to process these potatoes, it was — _magical_. RJ rolled the chip around in his mouth for awhile, savoring the flavor, then swallowed and proceeded to devour the rest of the can in an instant. By the time he was finished the whole upper half of his body was inside the can; RJ licked it, searching for crumbs, before finally yanking it off.

RJ grabbed several more cans of these "Spuddies" before inching back under the basket and scooting up the aisle, dragging his already large stack of food behind him. He stopped now and then to pick out some other things; soon his hands were full of cookies, bags of assorted chips, a thing called "whipped cream", a drink named "soda", and other processed foods. RJ had tried all of these and liked each one; the soda (named Mach 6) seemed to affect him in particular — after drinking it he felt he could stay awake for the next few weeks.

RJ stopped under another shelf and considered his options. _I need something to carry these_, he thought to himself. He crouched down and looked through the holes in the basket. The next aisle was labeled _Dolls & Figurines_. Curious to find out what this meant, RJ scuttled his basket down the aisle.

Looking around, he noted that the humans had made miniature plastic versions of themselves. There was something called Barbie and Ken — dolls that had impossibly attractive proportions. On the other side were miniature versions of the big machines humans liked to drive around (_cars_, RJ reminded himself). He recognized the toys; Raymond loved to play with them. RJ found that a little bit odd, as humans seemed to enjoy running down raccoons in their _real_ cars...

RJ shrugged these thoughts off, got out from under the basket and plucked one of these toys off their hangers. The car (labeled _Sizzlin' Hubcaps_) was blue, Raymond's favorite color; it glittered like a sapphire jewel. RJ twirled it around in his paw for awhile before deciding to take it also. Satisfied, he turned around and was about to leave — and his eyes settled on a figurine much taller than those around it.

It was a sculpture of the type of human that liked to hit little white balls through trim grass fields to sink them in little tiny holes. He was dressed in plaid and had a goofy-looking cap on. RJ glanced at the label on the box: _The Panther Forest Golf Kit_. Something else caught his eye too: slung over the figurine's shoulder was a small, blue canvas bag.

RJ stared at it for a minute and smiled. _I could really use that right now_, he thought to himself; his stack of food had been too large to carry for quite awhile. RJ placed the car in his pile and went for the box with the figurine. He wrapped his paws around it, pulling hard; the box, however, would not give. Surprised, RJ tugged harder. He felt it loosening ... it was coming ... _there!_

RJ pulled the box out, but as he did, something moved above him and he glanced upward. Time seemed to slow down suddenly as, horrified, RJ realized that there had been several of the same boxes stacked on top of the figurine. These boxes now sailed toward the raccoon and fell with a terrible clatter; RJ heard a loud crack and realized one of the figurines had broken.

"Hey! What the —"

RJ whirled around. The noise had attracted a tall female human's attention; she looked closer and suddenly screamed. "_AAAGH! VERMIN! RACCOON!_"

"_Shoot!_" RJ gasped to himself. "Stupid — stupid — _stupid —_" Quickly he punched a hole in the plastic box and yanked the canvas bag out, tossing the figurine aside. He slung it over his shoulder, trying it on: it fit perfectly. He then removed it again and shoved the pile of food inside; though there was a lot, it fit in effortlessly, as if the bag was bottomless. RJ then zipped up the top, slung the bag back over his shoulder — and ran for his life.

The woman's scream had attracted the attention of the other humans, including the store employees. RJ, rushing past in a blur, caught snatches of their conversation:

"What? What's going on?"

"Raccoon! Raccoon in the store!"

"There he goes now!"

"He's making off with our products!"

"Somebody catch him!"

"Filthy creatures! Who do they think they are, infiltrating the store like this?"

"Nasty little bandits who only think about themselves!"

"Get him!"

RJ tried not to listen, but he couldn't help rolling his eyes. Humans were amazingly exasperating at times. RJ wasn't concerned for _himself_, he was concerned for his family. And the humans were worried about him taking a little of their food? _They_ had taken the animals' land. Hypocrites, the whole lot of them.

Suddenly RJ skidded to a halt. He had just reached the exit, but the same human he had seen before was now blocking the way. RJ gulped: it was clear that this human was not friendly in the slightest. He had a plastic bag in his hands and he dove for RJ; before the raccoon could react the human had wrapped him in the bag.

RJ struggled uselessly against the man's powerful hands. The human had caught him, but what was he going to do? RJ was confused. The human didn't seem do be doing _any_thing. All he was doing was tightening his grip on RJ and the bag...

With a thrill of horror, RJ suddenly understood: the human was trying to _suffocate_ him. The plastic bag pressed against the raccoon's nose and mouth. RJ squirmed fiercely in the human's hands. He — couldn't — breathe — needed — air — needed — help — needed —

With his last ounce of strength, RJ bared his claws and slashed a hole in the side of the bag. He caught a glimpse of the enraged human, and his reaction was instinctive: RJ reached up and jabbed the human in the eyes. The man howled and dropped RJ and the bag; RJ landed hard on the floor and stood up on shaking knees, taking deep, shuddering breaths. He looked up in time to see the human clear his vision and look down at the raccoon. And suddenly, he lashed out with his leg and kicked RJ across the store.

RJ skidded through the aisles, stopping in the frozen food section. Clutching his stomach in pain, he fought the urge to hurl and instead stood up and began running again, this time toward the back of the store. He didn't know what use it would be to go back there; all he knew was that he had to get away from the humans.

Unfortunately, they were everywhere. Literally. RJ rounded a corner and found himself face-to-face with a small boy, not much taller than the raccoon. The boy had a strange device in his hand: it looked like a red, v-shaped piece of plastic.

"_TOY!_" squealed the child suddenly as he spotted RJ; he lunged for the raccoon. Panicking, RJ dodged the boy's grasp and continued running. "Come _baaaack_," he heard the boy cry, anger in his voice. "Come back or I throw Boomy at you! I never like Boomy anyway!"

"That's boomer_ang_, honey," came a motherly voice, correcting the child automatically. "And who are you talking to?"

RJ suddenly heard the woman scream; turning around, he realized it was because she had spotted him. The boy, meanwhile, had a determined look on his face, and he reared back and threw his boomerang. It sailed toward RJ and, instinctively, he leapt up and caught it. Smiling slightly at the surprised look from both the child and his mother, he stuffed the boomerang in his bag and continued running.

He turned another corner and gave a shout of relief: there was another door in front of him. RJ ran for it, watching it draw closer and closer. As he did, he suddenly noticed a sign plastered on it: EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY. ALARM WILL SOUND.

"This can't be good," he said to himself as he leapt for the handle, turned it, and sailed out into the night beyond.

Behind him, a sudden high-pitched shriek split the air, and the lights in the store flickered as the fire sprinklers came on, drenching dozens of angry humans. The employee who had tried to catch RJ had a particularly bad time of it, as he had been right under one of these sprinklers. Screaming with frustration, the man grabbed something off a shelf and hurled it out the door after the raccoon senselessly. There was no thud that meant that the object had made its mark, just the silence of the world outside as the alarm inside shrieked and the customers protested.

* * *

"Oh no," Marissa whispered, clutching at John's ears like they were security blankets. "Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no —"

"Stop that," Katrina said automatically, raising a paw to shush her sister. "Let's just think about this for a minute, all right?"

"They — they're _monsters_," Marissa was whispering, as she shook like a leaf. "They think that — that everything belongs to them, that they can just take whatever they want — they're — they're —"

"They're humans," John completed. "We know."

"What — are we going — to _do_?" said Snowy, who seemed to be having trouble breathing.

John thought for a moment, then said, "First item of business should still be to find Dr. Parker." He glanced at them, then asked, "I think RJ's health is the more pressing need at the moment, don't you?" When the three of them nodded silently, he continued, "Once we wake RJ up, he and Verne and the rest of us should be able to come up with something. RJ knows more about humans than almost anyone else; he'll know a way to get around this."

"What if — RJ doesn't —" Katrina started.

"No. He has to wake up. He just has to," John said firmly, though his eyes had lost their focus. "And even if he doesn't know how to stop this, he'll know how to _fight_ it."

"Oh, yeah, because violence is always the answer," snapped Snowy sarcastically, sitting down and looking at John with contempt. "That's the best idea you can think of?"

John recoiled as though he had been slapped, but ignored the question and instead sneered, "That's odd, coming from _you_, whom I seem to remember eating a gila monster and injuring several humans in our attempts to escape from the lab." His gaze was cool as he glared at Snowy.

"Enough!" Katrina shouted suddenly. "Snowy, honestly, I expected better of you. I'm sick of all the arguments! Violence _isn't_ always the answer, I agree, but as sad as it is, sometimes it's necessary. Now stop bickering with each other and let's figure out how to fix this! You two are supposed to be in love with each other!"

She glowered fiercely at Snowy and John, who were turning white under their fur.

"Is it — is it really that obvious?" said John uncertainly.

"Like air," said Marissa matter-of-factly, waving a paw. "It's always there but you never really think about it."

Katrina stared at her. "You know, Marissa, that is easily the most poetic thing I have ever heard you say."

"I know," said Marissa modestly, "I read it in a romance book. It was delicious."

The tension that had been hanging over them all day finally disappeared, and all four of the animals burst into laughter. Katrina had to jump off of Snowy temporarily as the cat rolled around on the ground. "Reading and eating books from the humans ... Marissa, you never cease to amaze me. I'm really glad I didn't eat _you,_ when we first met."

"That wasn't a high priority at the time, was it?" said Katrina, laughing also.

"Not really," admitted Snowy. "Survival was the first thing in mind."

"As it should be now," said John, as he stood up again, his eyes blazing with renewed vigor. "Which is why we're going to the SPCA."

"Right-o!" said Marissa, jumping onto the cat's shoulders again, and Katrina followed suit with Snowy. The cat beneath her hesitated, then finally said, "And by the way, I'm sorry for ... for snapping at you guys. It hasn't exactly been the best of mornings."

"And if you think it's going to get any better, my lady friend, you are sadly mistaken," said John, all happy forgetfulness suddenly gone from his voice, as the four of them turned away from the sign.

"Way to lighten the mood, John," said Katrina, rolling her eyes, and then the two cats sprinted back down the street, turning corners rapidly until they at last passed out of the entrance to El Rancho Camelot and into the city beyond.

* * *

RJ slowed to a walk, breathing heavily. That, he reflected, had been way too close. He stopped suddenly as a strange object came flying out of the store and bounced in front of him. RJ looked at the package: _ACME Laser Pointer_. He shrugged, then stuffed that into his bag too.

He then scurried back down into the forest he called home, carting his new bag triumphantly over his shoulder. Man, he couldn't _wait_ to show his family! He ran through the familiar trees and oaks, which were bathed in an orange glow from the sunrise, until at last he came upon the one he recognized as his. Quickly he scrambled up the tree trunk — having to adjust slightly because of the new bag — and popped into the hollow that was his family's cave. "Guys, guess what —" he started, then stopped suddenly.

The hollow was empty. More importantly, the leaves that his family used as bedding had been scattered every which way. They rustled ominously in the breeze, and as he cast his eyes around the hollow, RJ saw a dark red streak on one pile. Something that looked horribly like —

RJ shut his eyes. "No," he whispered to himself. "No. This isn't happening. It _isn't_ —" But when he opened his eyes, the hollow remained empty. And what was worse, RJ realized that the bloodstain was on the leaf pile that had originally been his father's. Dreading what had transpired after he had left, RJ began backing away unconsciously, and would have fallen out of the tree had his head not hit the top of the hole.

RJ rubbed his head uncomfortably. He _was_ almost grown: a week ago his head never would have hit the top. Turning his attention back to his missing family, he began scurrying around the hollow, searching it for things he knew he would not find. "Mom? Dad? Raymond?" he cried hopelessly, desperately. "Please ... please don't be —"

"RJ," came a voice. The raccoon whirled around. "Mom!"

Jill didn't react as RJ ran to her; the branch they were on shook dangerously but neither of them took notice. "Mom, you're okay! What happened to the others? Please tell me they aren't —"

"Your father was captured by humans," whispered Jill, her eyes staring straight ahead, and RJ blanched, horrified. "He went out to get more food, and tried to steal from farmers who were harvesting their crops ... they gave chase and he attempted to hide out here ... they followed him, they snatched him up, they took him back to the fields ... and they went inside the farmhouse and he ... and he..."

Jill shut her eyes and turned away from RJ. "...he screamed ... and that was the last I heard from him." Her voice shook as she recounted her story. "I had come back from my own food mission, I saw the humans abduct him, I followed them and tried to go after him, I heard him scream, I ran for the farmhouse. But — but —"

"But I stopped her," came another, deeper voice, and RJ spun on the branch. Standing below them was James the stag, gazing up at them with a neutral expression on his face. "If she had gone after Tim, she would have met the same fate. Perhaps worse, as the humans might have grown angrier with the thought of an infestation on their hands..."

"Leave us alone," RJ snarled, baring his claws as he looked down at the stag. "I know you're working for Vincent, I overheard you talking to him." Jill looked aghast at this news, but RJ plowed on relentlessly: "How can you stand there and talk to us when you were discussing our murders with him? You were calm, _intrigued_, even." The raccoon's voice shook with anger as he paced the branch, never taking his eyes off the stag. "And all of a sudden you're pretending to help us?"

"Not pretending," said James coolly, "not in the slightest. I am simply here to inform you that Vincent heard of your father's death, and so now claims that, as there is no way you can possibly meet the agreement with Tim gone, your entire family's servitude is now his."

"_What_?" cried RJ, and Jill made a noise like a cat being stepped on. "Who on Earth does he think he _is_? I barely even know him!"

"It comes from years of making animals do his dirty work so that he never has to forage for himself," said James, now pacing also, though his voice remained calm. "There is a bright spot, however. Since your family appears to have dwindled in numbers, he has decided to spare Raymond's life after all. For now, at any rate..."

"You call that a bright spot?" shouted Jill, her eyes glistening as she looked down at the stag. "How can you be so nonchalant? My husband is _dead_, and it's all thanks to the humans we have to steal from because your boss can't be bothered to do any _real work!_ What should make us think that you're trying to help us?"

"Because I too have lost family close to me," said James, and his voice was even quieter now. "And it is also due to Vincent's meddling. My own father's head is mounted on a human's wall because he was sent to inspect a newly developed area, to see if there was anything for Vincent there that looked promising. I'm sure you can guess what happened after he — my father — met the hunters."

RJ had turned white under his fur and was trembling; Jill, however, seemed determined to remain levelheaded, though her voice shook even more when she said to James, "Be that as it may, we still don't know what you or Vincent are planning. I thought he was going to kill us if we couldn't uphold our end of the agreement."

"—But — Mom, he doesn't _have_ to kill us!" shouted RJ suddenly, and slung the bag off his shoulder and stood it up on the branch, where it wobbled precariously until he steadied it with a paw. With the other, he unzipped the top, and under Jill's bewildered gaze, produced the pile of food that he had managed to obtain, both the processed and the regular goods. "See?" RJ shouted pleadingly. "We can give this to him, and now he'll have to leave us alone! It's everything he wanted!"

"RJ," said Jill gently, as she examined the pile. "RJ, it isn't enough."

"But — no, it _has_ to be —"

"It isn't," James confirmed from below, having watched the exchange. "Almost, but not quite. And knowing Vincent, he'll claim 'almost' isn't nearly enough. He set the bar too high on purpose, RJ. He wants your _entire family_ to serve him, not just your mother and father. And since Tim is now — unavailable...," here Jill shivered and fixed James with a murderous glare, "...your servitude is now more important than ever."

"Yeah, well," Jill said, and she was positively snarling now, "you can tell Vincent to take his servitude and shove it up his fat, hairy—"

"Mom!" gasped RJ, shocked. He had never seen his mother like this, and judging by Jill's sudden blush, she hadn't wanted him to. "Sorry, RJ ... lost my head for a moment..."

"I advise you to run," said James in that same maddeningly calm voice. "Vincent plans to accost you soon. In fact, he should already be on his way over here."

"What's going to happen to you?" asked RJ, as he and his mother began climbing down the tree.

"I am running as well," said James softly, and bowed his antlered head. "The news of my betrayal will undoubtedly be ... upsetting, and Tim's death made me realize that Vincent has ruled over my own family for far too long."

"Where will you go?" asked Jill, coming to stand beside RJ as the two of them now looked up at the stag from the forest floor.

"The Rocky Mountains," said James lightly, "the change of scenery will be beneficial. It's far away, but not by much — and it should be safe there."

"We wish you luck," said Jill quietly. "And thank you for your help."

James inclined his head again, then said, "I wish you luck as well. And it is my hope that your escape from Vincent will encourage others to do the same."

Then he turned away and was gone, galloping through the trees and off into the distance.

RJ and Jill stared after him, listening to the fading sounds of his hooves, before Jill finally said, "You heard the stag, RJ. We must find Raymond and run."

RJ nodded, and turned to face his mother. "How much time do we have, do you reckon?" he asked her.

There came a distant bear roar. But it wasn't nearly distant enough.

"Not much," said Jill.


	9. Tragedy

"Which way do we go?" asked Snowy, looking down the three-way intersection outside El Rancho Camelot estates. "Left or right? Come on, Marissa, you have the directions."

"I have the _address_," corrected Marissa, waving the clipping around. "But at any rate, left is not right."

John blinked. "What?"

"She means that we have to go to the right," explained Katrina, rolling her eyes. "See, look. It's a dead end over there." And indeed, there was a large yellow sign — which said simply END — plastered to a fence post, blocking the road.

"I wonder what's behind that dead end?" said Snowy with wonder as she turned in the direction Katrina indicated.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Snowy," John said, smiling bleakly. "It's the edge of a cliff. So yeah, I'd say we don't want to go that way."

"The city is this way," Marissa added, gesturing with her paw again. "Let's go, we haven't got all day."

"Easy for you to say; _I_ don't see you running all the way there —" started John.

"Guys," said Katrina tersely, cutting them off. "No arguments, remember? Come on."

John looked ready to say something else, but eventually just shook his head, and he and Snowy continued walking. The road took them up a green hill, towards the forest — _the forest where RJ says Vincent once resided_, thought Katrina absently. She shuddered, though she admittedly had never met the bear herself. Judging from RJ's accounts, he was about as friendly as Dr. Vexon.

Soon John and Snowy found a trail through the forest, and walked along it silently. The four animals were grateful for the shelter of the dense leaves; no longer did they have to worry about humans spotting them (for now, at any rate). After a time, a large building emerged through the trees. The front was all windows, and there was a large arch over the entrance. As the two cats drew closer, Katrina made out the sign on the front: _The El Rancho Camelot SPCA_. The place where Parker had gone to work after leaving the lab. Katrina smiled: it was good to know that not all humans were bent on destroying animals.

Predictably, as John and Snowy reached the doors of the building, there was a large sign on the front: CLOSED. _Open 7 am to 5 pm Monday through Friday; 9 to 4 on weekends._

"Dang. Still an hour left," said Marissa, reading the sign.

"I doubt the rest of the staff would know who we were, anyway," Katrina pointed out.

"True..." muttered John, casting an eye around the area. "I wonder..."

And he circled around the building, moving toward the back. Snowy followed cautiously, and soon they reached a back door. Katrina smiled: there was a pet flap at the bottom. It was a tight fit, but John and Snowy managed to follow Marissa and Katrina through.

They were inside the SPCA.

"Directory, directory, where's the directory," Katrina said to herself, looking around the building. There was a reception desk in the lobby; the four of them headed for that. With typical natural elegance for a cat, John jumped up to the front desk and rifled through one of the clipboards.

"Here we go. Larry Parker, second floor, office 12." John hopped down off the desk and Marissa jumped on his back again. After searching around for a bit, the four of them found the staircase; they climbed up to the second floor and found himself in a long corridor, with doors dotted down the hallway.

"It's kind of like an apartment building," John said. "8 ... 10 ... here we go, 12."

He reared up and turned the handle with his paw. To their surprise, it was unlocked. Slowly John creaked open the door, and the four of them peered in.

What they saw astounded them. The office had been completely destroyed; there was no sign of Parker anywhere. There were papers and office supplies strewn every which way; the computer on the desk had been turned over, the screen cracked and the keyboard broken in half. There was a large window on one wall, and the glass had been dented: Katrina could see her and her sister's reflection distorted and mirrored dozens of times (Marissa promptly made faces at it like she was in a fun house).

Snowy and John shuffled around the office in disbelief, their claws getting stuck to several scraps of paper. The wooden desk in the center had also been turned over; splinters littered the carpet around it. A small piece of paper, halfway buried by the upturned desk, caught Katrina's eye; there were a lot of circles and red marks on it. She jumped off Snowy's shoulders slowly pulled it out with a paw, careful not to rip it any more, and she, Marissa, Snowy and John read it together.

It was quite hard to decipher: it was torn halfway down the middle and severely crumpled. But at last they managed to make out a brief passage:

_... said property to be purchased by a Mr. Envox _(Dr. Parker had circled the name)_; the rights _(Dr. Parker had circled this too) _to said piece of land to be included in the purchase, including selected permits and values; said purchase to be made for the total of —_

Here the paper was torn again, and the four of them searched frantically for the other pieces; but they could not find them, and gave up in vain. John and Marissa instead poked through the office for more clues, while Snowy leaped onto the windowsill to see if she could make sense of the scene surveying it from above. Katrina, however, smoothed the paper out even more, and read the passage again, trying to make sense of it. It just looked like a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo to her. Why had Parker circled the name Envox? Had he been an old friend?

"What on Earth happened here?" Snowy asked, looking around at the destroyed office.

"I don't know," said John, "but from the look of things, it happened quite recently."

"But this clipping is dated a week ago," said Katrina, gesturing toward the newspaper fragment.

"Sure," said John, "but there's a bit of spilled coffee here."

"So?" said Marissa, swiping a finger through it and tasting some. "It's not even that good."

"No," said John patiently, "my point is, if it had spilled a week ago, it would have dried out by now. No, wherever Dr. Parker went, he left recently, and he left in a hurry. Who knows where he's gone, though."

"Did he go by himself, though?" Katrina asked, an inexplicable sense of dread sweeping through her as she read the clipping once more. "Or was he ... forced? Hard not to imagine, given the looks of things."

"Guys," said Snowy, looking out the window. She seemed to be having difficulty breathing; her eyes were wide as she gazed out at the landscape. "Trouble."

"What?" said Marissa impatiently, turning to look up at the cat. "Snowy, get down here and help —"

"Big trouble," said Snowy, still looking out the window, alarm written all over her face.

"What's the matter, Snowy?" said John, jumping up to look for himself. Snowy pointed a trembling paw at the landscape.

"There's a bulldozer heading into the suburbs."

* * *

Unaware of the impending danger surrounding them, the animals back at the Hedge had dispersed awhile ago to grab some breakfast and much-needed sleep. Now they gathered in a circle in the clearing once more, Lilly placing a paw on RJ's head. The raccoon's sleeping form looked far from peaceful; his breathing was hard and ragged, and he was sweating slightly.

"His condition's worsening," said Lilly quietly; RJ's forehead was burning. The possum cast her eyes to the sky, where the sun was making its way across the horizon. "And the summer heat isn't going to help things."

For once words failed Ozzie, and he mutely placed an arm around his wife; Lilly raised a paw and held his in turn. She then turned to face the Hedgies again, and made to speak — but she hesitated, her voice failing her. Finally she was able to say: "If he doesn't wake up by tonight, then — it's unlikely he'll ever wake up at all."

Her words might well have been a sledgehammer; the Hedgies looked stunned and, indeed, unable to react. Silence descended upon the glade for several moments, before a figure finally broke from the crowd and strode forward to Lilly. It was Verne, his golden eyes shining. "Isn't there _anything_ we can _do?_ _Any_thing?"

"I'm afraid that unless Dr. Parker is found, then the best we can do is try to keep him cool," Lilly said sorrowfully, and Heather wordlessly went to the mini-bar, grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and walked back to RJ, placing it gently on the raccoon's forehead. This seemed to calm the raccoon somewhat, and his breathing slowed; though he was still sweating.

"But —" Verne started, and he spun around to face the crowd, "—but we have _lab animals!_ Half a dozen of you have been experimented on, and you've managed to survive somehow! You're prepared for the worst, aren't you? You can recover from anything!" The turtle was losing all sense of rationality as he pointed an accusing finger at select animals from the crowd. "Frank! Willow! Jackson! George! And _you!_" Here he swung round again and pointed his finger at Lilly. "Don't any of you know more than this? Our leader is _dying_ and you're saying you can't do anything about it! What on Earth is _wrong with you?_"

Panting, Verne lowered his finger and paused; then he sat down on the ground and put his head in his hands. He seemed to regret his outburst; silent sobs racked his body and he refused to look any of the Hedgies in the eye. Presently another figure stepped forward, toward the turtle.

"You're our leader as much as he is, Verne," said Stella, placing a comforting paw on his shoulder. "You know that."

"No one can replace RJ," said Verne stubbornly, lowering his hands, though still not looking at Stella. "No one."

"And no one is trying to," said Tiger, joining his beloved by Verne's side. "Ve are all trying as hard as ve can to get RJ back vith us."

"_All_ of us, Verne," Lou repeated, and Penny and the kids nodded. "And you know that."

Silence again descended on the clearing; all of the animals were looking at Verne, waiting. And finally the turtle inhaled deeply and nodded. "You're right." He stood up again, facing the rest of the Hedgies. "The best we can hope for is that RJ —" he hesitated, "—that RJ always has his family with him. And I trust you guys. I trust Katrina, Marissa, Snowy and John." He surveyed the crowd before him. "They'll be back soon, I know it, and they'll bring Dr. Parker, and then we'll all be with RJ when he wakes —" Verne's breath suddenly caught in his throat. "Wait."

He surveyed the crowd again, and abruptly he whispered, "We're missing someone."

Verne turned to face Stella and Tiger, and they raised their eyebrows at the panicked turtle. When Verne spoke, his breathing was hoarse.

"Where's Hammy?"

* * *

"Where are they," the squirrel in question muttered frantically as he dug around the log. "Where are they, where are they, _where are they!_"

He zipped out of the log and through the forest, dashing about in a panic as he looked for the one thing that, he had convinced himself, could save RJ. "WHERE ARE THEY!" he shouted again, holding his paws to his head and looking skyward, wincing as the sun crossed his vision. "Ow..."

The little squirrel zipped to and fro again, looking under rocks, behind trees, through grass clippings, anywhere and everywhere his beloved treasures could be, until he finally ran particularly fast through a rosebush and collided with a large black-and-white object. He and his companion both fell backward with a chorus of "Oof!" Hammy sprang to his feet and looked to see who he had accidentally ran into.

"Hammy?" Stella said in confusion, getting to her feet. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried sick —"

"WHERE ARE MY COOKIES?" Hammy shouted in frustration, holding his paws to his head again. "Where are they, where are they, where are they —"

Stella blinked. "Uh, strange time to be looking for your cookies, isn't it, Hammy?" She frowned when she failed to get a reaction; the squirrel was still holding his head and repeating his mantra to himself. "Hamsquad. Come on. Let's go back to the —"

"THE COOKIES CAN SAVE RJ!" Hammy gasped, grabbing onto Stella, and the skunk fell backward, bewildered. "They can wake him up! Please, I know they can!" the squirrel said pleadingly, imploringly. "It worked with me! Why wouldn't it work with him?"

Stella blinked. "Well," she started slowly. "Because —"

"NO! Don't say anything, I know they'll work!" said Hammy desperately, and he let go of Stella abruptly, dashing around the clearing again. "Please, please, please, let me find them, oh, I don't know where I put them, please let me —"

"Hammy," Stella said gently. The squirrel paused briefly from his search and looked up at her, though he was plainly itching to resume his quest. "I don't think your cookies could wake up RJ, even if you could find them."

"NO!" Hammy shouted again, coming to stand in front of Stella. His eyes were full of tears as he looked up at her. "They HAVE to work! Don't you understand? It's _my fault_ that RJ got like this! Oh, I'm such an idiot!" He sat down and beat himself on the head with his tiny little fists. "I was up on that tree branch, he came to save me, I didn't know I was in danger — I — d-didn't know — th-that he would be — hit —" The squirrel trembled momentarily then collapsed in sobs, shaking on the ground in front of Stella.

"Oh, Hammy," Stella said quietly, kneeling down to sit beside him. She rubbed his back comfortingly as the squirrel let out all the frustration, pain, fear, concern — all the emotions that had overwhelmed him for so long, until he could no longer hold them in. Hammy held his head in his paws as he cried, his chest heaving, until at last his sobs quieted to occasional sniffles, and he again looked up at Stella. "I — h-have to — get RJ to w-wake up," he said, voice trembling. "I — d-don't know what would happen if — if I c-can't."

"He _will_ wake up," Stella said firmly, though in her heart she knew that there was no way to know for certain. "And he won't need any cookies to do it. Parker will help him." Stella blinked then gave a half-smile. "And besides, he wouldn't want to take from your cookie stash. Those are only for you."

Hammy smiled a bit as well, through the tears. "He w-was the one who made that rule," the squirrel remembered, drying his eyes.

"And he'll be there to reinforce it before long. Just you wait," said Stella, rubbing Hammy's back fur again.

"Do you really th-think so, Stella?" asked Hammy, as the two of them stood up to make their way back to the clearing.

Stella blinked, then forced a smile. "Sure I do, Hammy."

"Positive?" pressed the squirrel as they walked.

"Just you wait," Stella repeated.

* * *

Still unaware that his mind was reliving something that had occurred years ago, RJ ran with his mother through the forest, looking desperately for his younger brother. "_Raymond!_" shouted the raccoon, and Jill joined in, voice full of concern. "_RAYMOND!_" the two of them shouted. "_Where are you?_"

The bear roar came from behind them again, and RJ skidded to a halt. "Mom, we can't call for him, Vincent will know where we are! We can't —"

"How else do you propose to find him, RJ?" Jill shouted, whirling around, and there was a tinge of madness in her voice. Jill's concern for her son was pushing her to hysteria; RJ, noticing this, stepped backward involuntarily. Jill noticed his movement and blinked, then inhaled deeply to calm herself down. "If you have any other suggestions, I'm all ears," she said, voice slightly quieter. "But otherwise, keep looking for him."

Knowing perfectly well that they didn't have any other options, RJ nodded and the two of them resumed their quest. "_Raymond!_" RJ shouted again, as the two of them ran through the undergrowth. "_Raymond!_"

Soon the two of them reached a large, wooden fence. "That's the crop field we were scavenging in when your father was captured," said Jill, not stopping, and she climbed through the fence without a second thought. "If Raymond is anywhere nearby, he'd be in here, so _come on!_" she shouted behind her.

RJ knew she was right, but still stopped for a moment, reluctant to follow. Then the bear roar came again and he realized that the tall crops would offer them protection; without hesitation he pressed forward and climbed through the fence as well.

Judging by the rustling sounds ahead of him, Jill was several yards in front; RJ could hear her voice calling Raymond's name as she plowed through the field. RJ took a slight detour and headed to the left; looking down the rows of vegetables for the tan fur that belonged to his younger brother. "_Raymond!_" he shouted again, voice exhausted with effort, "_Raymond!_"

The two raccoons moved deeper into the field, keeping a wary watch for humans; but they seemed to have gone inside after Tim's capture and so all was quiet for now. RJ shoved several of the plants aside as he made his way through, all the while calling his brother's name. "_Where are you, Raymond? We have to go! Come on!_"

Suddenly RJ stopped shouting, and his ears twitched in the still breeze. There was a large, ominous rustling sound coming from behind him. A chill ran down his back as he realized what it meant.

Vincent had entered the field.

"_Raymond!_" RJ called again, his voice now tinged with urgency. "_Raymond!_"

The rustling grew louder. Vincent was gaining.

"_Raymond!_" RJ shouted desperately, pushing plant after plant aside, running faster and faster through the crops. "_Where are you? Come on! Raymond!_"

RJ could hear his mother's voice calling for his brother some distance in front of him; she had almost reached the other end of the crop field. RJ's stomach lurched; if she hadn't found Raymond, then where was he? "_Raymond!_" RJ shouted again, "_Ray—_"

Suddenly he stopped. He had stumbled into a small clearing where all of the plants had been pushed roughly aside, creating a circle. In the middle of this circle was a bucket, cast on its side, fruit spilling out of it. But what RJ was drawn most to was the color of the bucket. It was a pale blue.

Blue.

Raymond's favorite color.

With a dark slash of red along the center.

"_No..._" RJ whispered, falling to his knees, scrabbling around the area desperately, searching for some sign, any sign, of his brother's survival. There were claw marks in the soil. Had he been interrupted in his quest for food? Had he been dragged away, screaming, clinging desperately to the fruit he had worked so hard to get? Had he —

"_RAYMOND!_" RJ shouted, desperately, hopelessly. "_PLEASE be alive!_"

There was nothing, no sound to return his call, just the ominous rustling behind him. RJ's breath caught as he realized that the rustling had grown still louder. And he began to run, he was running as he never had before, running through the fields, shoving plants aside, shoving crops aside, looking desperately for something — anything — to indicate that his brother had survived, that he hadn't met the same fate as his father, that he wasn't — that he wasn't —

RJ skidded to a halt. He had reached the other fence. On the other side was Jill, her eyes widening as she saw her son. "Did you find him? Did you see where he went? Did —"

"Mom," RJ gasped as he climbed through the fence. "Mom, please, _please_ tell me that Raymond's bucket wasn't blue."

"What? What do you mean? Of course it was blue, it was his favorite color, a pale blue, we nicked it especially for him —"

"No," RJ whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "No."

"What do you —" Comprehension suddenly dawned on Jill's face; her eyes widened and she gasped. "Oh no—"

"There was ... a red stripe on it," RJ panted. "Did it have a red stripe on it?"

"N-no ..." Jill said, shaking her head. "Not — originally..."

Neither of them moved for several minutes. RJ had doubled over from the effort of the run; he was clutching his stomach as bitter tears leaked from his eyes. Jill seemed to be struggling to hide her emotions; finally she said, in a low voice, "He could have survived."

RJ looked up. "Are you —"

"He could have," said Jill, more firmly, though she seemed to be convincing herself. "I didn't — didn't hear another struggle ..." She blinked and turned away from RJ, though he distinctly heard her voice, full of self-remorse, as she whispered, "_Why_ did I leave him alone..."

"You had to go after Dad. It's not your fault," gasped RJ. "Come on, Mom, we have to move."

"We still have to find him!" said Jill, whirling around to face her son again. "I should never have left — we _have_ to find Raymond!"

"You think I don't know that?" RJ yelled. "Of course we have to find him! So let's hurry up and start looking again —"

He was cut off by a large cracking sound behind him; horrorstruck, he wheeled around to see a large, towering form had broken the fence and was now mere yards away. Vincent the bear smiled as he looked down at them, that evil, leering smile for which he was so well known. "You can't run forever..." he started tauntingly.

"Mom, come _on!_" RJ shouted, grabbing Jill's paw, and the three of them dashed away from the fence. Vincent roared behind them, enraged that they should have the gall to try and escape him. "Faster, Mom, _faster_ — RAYMOND!" RJ shouted, looking around him wildly. "RAYMOND, COME ON!"

He and Jill sped up even more, and their running took them down the hill the farm was located on, down through the grass and weeds, through a meadow filled with dandelions and sunflowers. The ground shook beneath them and RJ knew that Vincent was again pursuing him and Jill. Their only hope was that they would be fast enough to find Raymond before the bear was upon them.

The chase took them still further, away from the meadow and onto rocky ground, a stark contrast to the soft grass of moments before. The hot rock burned RJ's feet as he ran, though he tried to ignore it and concentrate on finding his brother. "_Raymond!_" he yelled. "_Raymond!_"

"RJ, wait!" shouted Jill, and made to stop running, but RJ dragged her along and they kept going. "I know this place!" said Jill as they ran, "it's a canyon! We're going to fall into the river in about thirty seconds—"

"Then make for the bridge!" shouted RJ, having just spotted a large structure with rope and wooden blocks strung across the approaching gorge. "Come on!"

The two raccoons veered toward it, and the rumbling beneath their feet grew louder; Vincent was getting closer still. RJ could hear the pounding of the river blow them as they approached the bridge; the water roared with a sound to rival the bear's behind them. "_Raymond!_" RJ shouted again, though he knew it was futile, knew that his brother couldn't possibly have made it out this far —

They were on the bridge. RJ and Jill scrambled across the wooden blocks, holding on desperately to the ropes keeping them up; the two of them both looked down involuntarily and shuddered as they saw the white water, churning and frothing. Behind them, Vincent roared again, and it was the loudest roar yet; RJ's ears rang with the combined force of the bear and the river.

Neither of them looked back, as they struggled across the bridge madly; they were little more than halfway across when suddenly, RJ felt Vincent leap into the air. The bear landed on the bridge, sending it rocking back and forth; RJ tripped, lost his balance — and fell. With a scream, the young raccoon thrust out his paw, and Jill caught it in hers; the two of them dangled precariously off of the bridge, the rushing canyon rapids far below them.

Gasping, RJ looked up. "Mom, look out!" Jill whipped her head around to see Vincent towering over her and smirking. With a satisfied roar, he swiped at Jill and caught her in his paw.

Amazingly, Jill didn't cry out. She gazed up at Vincent, and the bear's satisfied smirk disappeared as he gazed murderously down at her. "Too much trouble to bother with, you are," the bear snarled, as he began to tighten his grip. "Your sons, not so much, but you — you're _spiteful_. _Resistant_. A_ threat_." Vincent's eyes narrowed as he glared at Jill. "And threats need to be removed."

Jill ignored the bear, turning away from him to gaze at RJ, whose paw she still clutched in her own. Jill looked down at the river below, then back at Vincent, then at RJ — and realized the only hope left for her son. She gazed at him, then smiled slightly.

"I love you," she whispered — and let go.

Vincent roared in anger and lunged for the young raccoon, but he was too late. RJ plummeted downward, the air rushing around him as the towering figure of the bear receded into the distance.

RJ never saw what happened to his mother.

But he knew, when he heard Vincent's sudden howl, a howl of triumph and victory.

He knew that all was lost.


	10. Believe

RJ tumbled down the center of the gorge, screaming. He slammed against the canyon wall and reeled, choking, as he continued falling ... and finally he landed in the river with a loud splash. It hurt, but RJ ignored the pain and batted his paws desperately, seeking the surface. At last his head broke over the water and he gasped loudly.

The rapids carried him down the river, smashing him against rocks and branches mercilessly. RJ tucked a paw over his head and ducked, waiting for the waters to calm and the pain to recede. Upon lowering his hand he discovered this wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

He was approaching a waterfall.

RJ stared at it for a minute, then sighed. "Of course."

Quickly the raccoon lunged through the rapids, trying to bat the strong waters aside as he swam toward shore, looking for something — anything — to grab onto. His paws reached a large rock protruding out from the riverbank and he grabbed on, hanging tight. The waters whirled around him, continuing to batter at his body ruthlessly. Pain erupted across RJ's back, his arms, his legs — there was not a single part of him that did not hurt. Grimacing, RJ tried to ignore it. His mother had saved him from Vincent ... but had she saved him from death? RJ hugged the rock still tighter and tried not to think about what had just happened.

And then the rock broke off.

RJ hurled down the river once more, the water swirling about him in torrents — and before he had time to do anything, he had hurtled over the waterfall.

As he fell through the air, RJ experienced an eerie calm. Time seemed to slow to a stop as he quietly tumbled downward, curling himself into a ball to minimize the impact. He just hoped that when he hit, the water would be deep enough for him to survive.

But did he _want_ to survive? RJ wasn't sure anymore.

And RJ splashed into the river, the waterfall pouring on him in torrents and forcing him far underwater. He let himself drift for a minute, not really caring if he broke the surface or not; but he did, and he automatically took in a huge gasp of air and batted his paws through the water, trying to swim through the current.

He was still hurtling down the stream, away from the rushing waterfall, but now the water seemed to be slowing down. Part of the river branched off into a small pool, and it was this route RJ was carried through, finally coming to rest on shore, standing on all fours. Panting, RJ rested there for a moment, checking his bag (it had survived relatively unscathed) and catching his breath. Finally, RJ shook himself out and stood up.

Before he had taken two steps, he had been forced back down again.

RJ looked up in terror. "Vincent!" he shouted. The bear had beat him again.

"Now, RJ," said Vincent smoothly, though his grin was maniacal, "did you _really_ think you were going to get away? Don't tell me you're dumb enough to believe _that_..."

He raised a claw — RJ saw with a chill that it was covered in blood — and ran the sharp edge very gently across RJ's shoulder. RJ felt his skin prickle, and he knew that it Vincent forced the claw any deeper, he could kill him right then and there.

Vincent seemed to read his thoughts. "I'm not going to kill you, RJ," he said, still smiling evilly. "You're no use to me dead." The bear sneered and lean in closer. "Your mother, RJ ... now, I thought she would work, but she proved to be too much trouble. She was spiteful, resistant." He ran his claw across RJ's arm again. "You, however ... you're young. You wouldn't dare oppose me — at least, not yet. And having someone like you at my disposal — that's what would be _really_ useful."

The bear leaned closer, and his hot breath smothered RJ's ear. "I could train you ... build you up so that you'll _never_ learn to resist. And I — _I_ will _own_ you."

The bear's expression hardened and he pulled RJ upward, so that the two of them were eye to eye. "From now on," Vincent growled, "you work for me. You're under my command. You do as I say. _I_ have the power over _you_. You are _at my mercy_."

"But —" RJ started.

"Do you want to end up like the rest of your family?" roared Vincent, tightening his grip on RJ. "Well? _Do you?_"

_It'd beat living like this,_ thought RJ, but the words wouldn't come. Instead what he heard himself say was a weak "...No..."

"Then as soon as I wake up from hibernation," Vincent snarled, as he dropped RJ back onto the ground, "you had better be waiting for me. And RJ, don't even think you can run away from me. You can't beat me. If you disappear, I will track you down."

The bear began shuffling away, but turned around one last time, smiling at RJ evilly. "And then I'll send you on the same path as your family ... _death_." He gave one last snarl, and was gone.

Slowly, shakily, RJ stood up. He stayed where he was for a moment, trembling, as he held his paws to his head, trying to make sense of something. Anything. Trying to stop his mind from spinning.

Trying to ignore the heavy pain settling in his heart.

It had started to rain; lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rumbled in the distance. RJ began walking through this rain, not caring where he ended up. All that he knew was that he couldn't stay in one place, letting his thoughts overcome him. He had to keep moving.

The walk turned into a run. RJ darted through the rainwater, he dodged trees and branches that dipped under the weight of the rain, his feet padded across the landscape. Suddenly he slipped and fell into a large puddle of water with a splash.

And stayed there.

The rain poured down on RJ as he remained in the puddle, his eyes closed. He was utterly defeated, utterly hopeless — he had nowhere to go, no one to turn to, no one left he could call his family. Slowly RJ pushed against the ground with his hands and raised his head. He coughed as the water dripped down off of him — some of it rain, some of it tears.

One of his paws slipped through the water and RJ fell back to the ground with another splash. RJ let himself lie there as the sky flashed and rumbled overhead. His only movement was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he slowly breathed in the misty air. Slowly he curled up into a ball, shivering and sobbing.

He didn't get up for a long time.

* * *

_Gradually the sounds and sights of the rain faded away, to be replaced by the swirling void that RJ now knew so well. Slowly he uncurled himself and stood up. The memory he had just experienced had happened years ago, but the dream made it seem like mere seconds._

_And there was Rob again, his expression unreadable. RJ walked toward the wolf, the raccoon's arms folded across his chest. "Rob ... I still don't see the point in having to relive all this."_

"_You will, RJ," Rob reassured him. "Don't worry, you've only got one left. And this one isn't as ... traumatic. But it's still important."_

"_Have I blocked it out like the others?" asked RJ, as the void around him began to vanish once more._

"_Not quite," said Rob. He gave RJ a small farewell grin, and was gone._

* * *

Wildly, desperately, Snowy and John tore through the streets of suburbia, hoping against hope that they weren't too late. Marissa and Katrina struggled to maintain their hold on the cats' backs against the momentum. "Are you sure we'll be able to beat the bulldozer there?" Katrina shouted at John.

"We have to!" John shouted in response, rounding a corner, and Katrina was almost thrown off. "It's the only chance; we're the only ones who know about it!"

"That, and the fact that we took a shortcut should help," added Marissa, seemingly unfazed by everything as she calmly gripped Snowy's shoulders. "Stop worrying, Katrina."

"Oh, I should _stop worrying?_" came Katrina's response; she sounded on the edge of hysteria. "One of the Hedgies is unconscious and the other ones are about to be run over by a bulldozer, and I should _stop worrying?_"

"Yes, because you were the one who kept reminding us not to argue in the first place," said Marissa simply, glaring back at her.

"Almost there!" John shouted, silencing Katrina's retort, and as he rounded another corner the Hedge again came into view. The roar of the approaching bulldozer was getting louder; they didn't have much time. "Hold on!" he shouted, and with a wild leap he crashed through the leaves and branches once more, reemerging in the clearing where the gang had placed the unconscious RJ.

They were still gathered around him: Heather was wringing out a damp cloth, Lilly had her hand over his heart, and Verne, along with the rest of the Hedgies, were standing nearby, looking on anxiously. As Snowy, John, Katrina and Marissa rejoined them, however, Verne looked over toward them, bewildered. "Guys?" he asked, blinking at the four of them. "What's going on?"

"His heart rate is increasing!" came Lilly's voice, before any of them could respond, and all of the gang looked over at RJ. He was panting, his breathing labored; he was also sweating profusely. "Heather, where's that cold water?"

"Got it right here!" said Heather, placing the damp cloth back on RJ's head, but it didn't seem to do much good; the raccoon's breathing still came in short gasps and he had started to thrash in his sleep. Hammy immediately zipped forward from his place beside Stella to stand next to RJ; tentatively he reached forward and placed his paws on RJ's arms, hoping to restrain his struggling. "RJ. RJ! It's okay, it's all right, we're here!" he said, his voice pleading. "Please don't die, RJ, please please please ... everything will be fine..."

"NO IT WON'T!" shouted John, and all of the Hedgies jumped. "And do you know why? Because there's a bulldozer headed into the neighborhood, _and it's going to kill us!_ Do you hear me? _It's going to wipe this entire place out!_"

"John, calm yourself," said Tiger, a tad nervously, as he stepped toward the other cat. "Vat on Earth do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what does he mean?" snapped Snowy. "We're going to lose everything! This entire grove will be gone within hours because a big yellow hunk of metal is about to crash right into it!"

"Well, then we'll have to fight it off!" shouted Bucky, raising a fist in a fighting gesture; his siblings were quick to do the same. "All-out smashdown! Right here, right now, oh yeah!"

"Kids, this is _serious!_" exclaimed Verne angrily. "Stop playing around!"

"I don't know. I think they have a point," said Stella, placing her paws on her hips.

"I agree," said Ozzie, clenching a fist dramatically. "We have a raccoon to protect, and if some bulldozer is trying to interfere with that, so much the worse for it."

"But_how_ are we supposed to —" Verne started, but before he could finish, an enormous crunching sound interrupted him, and the Hedgies whirled around to see part of the Hedge crumbling underneath the treacherous bulldozer. The huge machine lurched forward, roughly pushing aside leaves and branches while crushing more with its wheels, and the roar of its engine increased as it surged forward.

Slowly the Hedgies began backing away as they looked up at the gigantic behemoth. Its constantly roaring engine seemed like a thunderous growl, its shovel like gigantic teeth bent on devouring each and every one of the forest critters. Verne raised a hand, shielding his eyes from the yellow bulldozer's blinding glare, and squinted. Over the roar of the engine an evil laughter could be heard ... and as Verne looked closer, he saw that it was coming from the driver of the machine. There was something quite familiar about that driver ... something all too familiar.

"_VEXON!_" shouted Hammy.

* * *

Sinking into his past for the last time, RJ found himself standing in front of a vending machine, its soft hum the only sound that could be heard in the dark night. _How long has it been?_ thought RJ forlornly as he stared up at the machine. _How long since I've had a real family?_

It had been years. RJ had lost count of them. Every year it was the same old thing — serving Vincent, making sure the bear got everything he wanted, having the occasional break when the bear went into hibernation — but knowing all the while that running away was futile. He gathered from the humans the entire rest of the time, learning their ways, their mannerisms, their methods of making and protecting food, collecting occasional souvenirs from them which he stored in his bag. His bag, which was now the only real possession he now owned, along with the items inside. The blue canvas had proved incredibly resilient, staying with RJ through thick and thin, the only friend or family he had had for all these years.

Serving Vincent had meant that he wasn't _allowed_ to have friends or family. Once or twice RJ was even forced to _harm_ other critters — more emotionally than physically. There was that incident where that fox had courted him, and he had made off with her wagon — and her heart. And there was a rather nasty scrape with a coyote family, and lots of blood. RJ despised hurting others, but over the years, without realizing it, he had grown numb to it. It didn't seem like such a big deal anymore, because he had convinced himself — not without reason — that he was, for all intents and purposes, alone. And RJ still took comfort in one small thing: No matter how bad things got, he would never be a killer like Vincent.

Unfortunately, if RJ ran away, Vincent would track his scent — hunt him down — and kill _him_. Just like the bear had killed so many others.

Sighing, RJ removed some coins from his bag and dropped them into the vending machine's slot. He made his selection — a bag of nacho chips — and watched in anticipation as the bag began to move. He hoped it wouldn't get stuck. And thanks to Vincent, that was all he had left to hope for.

The bag reached the end of the prongs holding it, dipped forward — and stayed there.

_What??_ RJ thought, gasping angrily, as he smashed his fist repeatedly into the machine. _Why does everything happen to me?_

He jammed himself into the slot and reached upward. Higher ... higher ... higher ... he couldn't get it ... he reached ... and banged on the glass in frustration as he dropped back onto the ground with a sigh. What else? He thought for a minute, then removed a little pointer from his bag and tested it. He had nabbed this in his third trek back into the supermarket, in search of more Spuddies. Vincent had discovered he liked them, much to RJ's chagrin (he had found them first, confound it!). RJ shook his head and concentrated back on the pointer: The tiny plastic dinosaur head on the top made a fine grabbing device.

Grinning, RJ slipped the pointer into the slot and reached up with it. There! It had grabbed the bag. But wait — he pulled, and the bag slipped out of the little dinosaur head's grasp. Fuming, RJ tried again. Again. Again. No luck. Frustrated, he punched the chips bag in anger with the pointer — and the dinosaur's head broke.

Now seething with anger, RJ tossed the head aside. Was _everything_ in his life going to turn out badly? He reached into his bag once more — and came out with the boomerang he had nabbed so long ago.

RJ reared back and threw the boomerang, smiling again. It sailed back and struck the glass. The bag shook — but didn't come loose. RJ stared. _WHY??_

He stuffed the boomerang back into his bag and went for the machine. He tried everything — pressing the little "coin return" button; scrambling in and out of the slot, punching and kicking the machine — nothing worked. All he achieved was an excruciating pain in his foot.

The frustration that had been building up for years in RJ finally exploded. He removed the little miniature golf club that had come with his bag, and, seething, smashed it into the machine. _Nothing goes right_ — he slammed the club through the glass — _Everything's a failure_ — the vending machine rocked under RJ's force — _Why should anyone even try anymore?_ — the lights in the machine flickered — _Nothing ever matters_ —

RJ smashed into the machine one last time, and the lights in it went out. The bag still remained stuck in its slot, but RJ could now see, under the light of the full moon, something else. There was a reflection in the darkened glass — a reflection of a certain cave on a certain hill, bathed in the cool glow of the moonlight.

"Vincent," RJ whispered, turning around. "No. No. Bad idea." But the rumbling in his stomach was so _loud_... RJ sighed and stuffed the golf club back in his bag.

Soon he found himself at the base of the cave, looking upward. RJ reached back into his bag and came out with a fishing line that he had found in the yard of one of the humans nearby. A yard that inhabited the area where the forest had been plowed away... RJ shook his head and turned his gaze upward again.

He was either starting the most foolhardy or the most successful mission of his life. His father had failed at it, he realized, and that made RJ pause for a moment; he stared at the end of the fishing line, the hook swaying hypnotically in the evening breeze. As he thought, Tim's words came back to RJ, for the first time in years...

"_Any problem can overwhelm you if you look at it from one side like that. But when you start looking for different ways to solve it — _that's_ when it stops being hopeless."_

But did thinking outside the box involve risking your life senselessly? Did it involve trying to settle a feud that had existed between Vincent and RJ — and RJ's _family_ — for years? Did it involve trying to put said family out of your mind, trying to deny their existence to lessen your pain — and cursing yourself when you never really could?

Was it better that he couldn't forget his family? Was it better that he didn't know how this ... _mission_ ... would turn out for him? Was it better to just throw caution to the wind for once and do what he felt he _needed_ to do, even if it was for his own reasons, and no one else's?

"_Your mother believes in you, RJ. I do too. How can that be hopeless?"_

Smiling slightly, RJ made his decision, cast the fishing line up at last, hooked it onto the cave's ledge, and began his ascent.

* * *

"That's right," came Dr. Vexon's evil laugh, as he swung open the door of the bulldozer and gazed down at the Hedgies. "I've finally found you! I swore to you I would have my revenge. Well, guess what? Here I am!"

The doctor retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up for the Hedgies to see. "Do you see this?" he asked with an insane giggle, pointing at the paper. "It's a deed to the entire forest! I've busted out of jail, I've assumed a new identity, and I now own all the land in El Camelot that was reserved for 'future development'! And you know what? That's your little glade, right here!"

Vexon laughed again, stowing the deed safely away in his pocket. "I'm going to wipe you all out!" he shouted, his eye twitching as he cackled with laughter. "I'm not going to just drive you away, I'm going to _wipe you from the face of the Earth!_ You took away everything I had, so I'm just returning the favor!"

"Oh, my heavens, he's gone insane," whispered Penny, terrified, as she clung to Lou and the kids.

"Yeah, well, that doesn't make him any less dangerous, there," said Lou nervously, gripping his wife's paw in his own.

"We have to lure him away from RJ!" said Verne resolutely, though he was shaking slightly as he looked up at Vexon. "We can't hope to get him better if there's an insane doctor after him!"

"This way, y'all!" shouted Stella, gesturing forward, and she grabbed Tiger's paw and bolted through the underbrush, deeper into the forest. Getting the idea, the other Hedgies began following the two of them: Marissa and Katrina jumped on Snowy and John's backs once again; Ozzie took Lilly and Heather's paws and ran ahead; the porcupine kids started a game of "Nah, nah, can't catch us!" as they gamboled about with their fleeing parents; Willow and Jackson hopped like mad over branches and logs; and Frank and George paused only briefly, looking back at Vexon and raising their eyebrows as if to say, "Try us", then they too vanished.

"I don't _think_ so!" shouted Vexon, enraged now, and he dove back into the bulldozer and started it back up. The engine roared to life, and the shovel in front flailed wildly as Vexon darted the joystick back and forth. Laughing again, the doctor floored the gas, and soon the bulldozer was tearing through the trees and undergrowth as it pursued the Hedgies.

Verne looked after them, quite panicked now, and also sweating with nervousness. He and Hammy had remained behind with RJ, and the turtle now went back to the raccoon, taking up the cloth that Heather had been using. RJ was still thrashing in his sleep with several harsh grunts; his forehead was burning hot.

"RJ. RJ, _please_ wake up," said Hammy, his face inches from RJ's as he pleaded with the raccoon. "_Please_, RJ," the squirrel added with a sob, "we _need_ you."

"H-he'll be fine, Hammy," said Verne, though his heart was not in his words as he sponged RJ's forehead. "Y-you'll see. He's been through worse than —"

Before Verne could finish, there came another crunching sound, this one from behind the three of them. Hammy chanced a look over his shoulder and gasped, a frightened squeak coming from him. Verne also turned around — and for a second, the turtle was certain he had walked straight into a nightmare. This was too much, on top of everything else that had happened so far.

"_Vincent?_" Verne gasped.

* * *

"_So you tried to forget them. Is that it, RJ?"_

_RJ had emerged into the swirling void for the final time; he had been about to say something to Rob, but stopped. "What?"_

"You_," said Rob, and now his tone was accusational, "tried to pretend you never _had_ a family. You denied their very existence, so much that when Verne asked you about ever having one, you denied it."_

"_Well, I hadn't had one for years —" RJ started._

"_RJ," said Rob gently._

_RJ stopped and lowered his head; tears still brimmed in his eyes. "...Yeah ... I did," he said heavily. "But ... it's not like I mind the one I have now..."_

"_As you shouldn't," Rob acknowledged, nodding. "And _that's_ the point behind all of this, RJ."_

"_What do you mean?" asked RJ carefully, looking back up at Rob._

"_Don't you see?" said Rob, smiling. "All of this — finding out about Vincent, confronting him, serving him — all of these memories can help you, RJ. If you truly understand everything you've learned about Vincent, then you can be rid of him, and your fears of him, once and for all. You just have to know how to apply them. To find the determination in yourself to really make them matter."_

"_That's ... uh..." RJ was at a complete loss for words. Finally he settled with, "...that's ... interesting."_

"_You'll figure it out soon enough," Rob said with a grin. "But right now, it's finally time for you to —"_

_Suddenly the void around the two of them vanished, the swirling colors giving way to an inky blackness. All RJ could see was Rob, who was now looking confused and bewildered. It was obvious that the wolf hadn't been expecting this._

"_Rob, what's going on?" shouted RJ as the blackness around him dissolved, to be replaced by a light blue glow. "This is a dream, isn't it?"_

"_Something's gone wrong," said Rob nervously. "This wasn't supposed to happen. You're — you're being called back."_

_"Come again?" said RJ, then suddenly noticed he was moving upward. "Hey! Rob, what's happening? You said I'd wake up!"_

"_RJ ..." said Rob sadly, his eyes brimming, "...RJ, I'm sorry."_

"_Sorry for _what?_" RJ asked, struggling against the invisible force pulling him upward. "Rob, what's going on?"_

"_RJ ... your heart's stopped beating."_


	11. Battle in the Suburbs

"Well, what do you know," sneered Vincent, as he towered over Verne, Hammy, and the unconscious RJ, "I've finally found him."

"You leave him alone!" Hammy shouted in a squeaky voice, sounding no braver than he felt.

Vincent laughed. "Or what? You'll unleash your little buck teeth on me?" The bear leaned down to look Hammy in the eyes and grinned evilly. "Get out of here, you pathetic squirrel. This is between me and RJ."

"Oh, no it's not!" shouted Verne, coming to stand beside Hammy. "When you have a problem with RJ, you have a problem with all of us! _Especially_ Hammy and me!"

"That's right!" said Hammy, sounding a tad braver now. "What do you want with him, anyway?"

"With _him?_" Vincent replied innocently. "Oh, nothing. It's just that he managed to burn off all my fur, trap me in a cage and send me to a mountain rage miles away. Now all that's left to do is ... settle the score, as it were."

"Yeah, well, you'll forgive us if we're a tad reluctant to move aside, then," said Verne, crossing his arms. "RJ's our leader — our _friend_ — and we're _not_ letting you get to him."

Vincent's leering smile vanished, and he stared murderously down at Hammy and Verne. "Oh, I haven't come all this way just to be stopped by the likes of _you_."

And without warning, the bear suddenly lunged forward and swiped a paw at the two of them. Verne and Hammy yelled out as they went flying; Verne popped into his shell instinctively as he landed in a clearing several yards away, while Hammy crashed into a tree and slid down the trunk. Dazed, but otherwise unhurt, Hammy shook his head and dashed back over to RJ, just in time to see Vincent lean over the raccoon and raise a massive paw.

"_This_ is what you get when you back out of an agreement," the bear was saying, as he growled fiercely, before beginning to bring his paw down to strike the fatal blow. It was then that Hammy suddenly zipped in front of RJ, standing over the raccoon protectively with his arms spread. "_GO AWAY!_" Hammy shouted, with surprising force.

Vincent halted for a moment, surprised, and at that moment an enormous crashing sound echoed across the glade. Vexon's bulldozer emerged from behind a pair of trees, crushing them with its massive shovel. The yellow menace was headed straight for Vincent: with a roar the bear fell backward and landed in the Hedge, getting momentarily tangled in the leaves and branches. Vincent roared again, wrestling himself free of the Hedge, and with a glance around and another snarl, the bear bolted, running away from the bulldozer to another part of the glade.

Meanwhile, behind RJ and Hammy, the bulldozer rolled over the fallen trees; its tires were inches from the two of them when there came a whistling sound from the nearby clearing.

"Hey!" Verne was shouting at the bulldozer, hopping up and down. "Hey! Look! Over here! Remember me? I helped in the whole 'blowing up the lab' thing!"

In the driver's seat, Vexon took his foot off the gas pedal momentarily, eyeing Verne. "That's right!" the turtle called. "I helped land you in jail! Now come and get me!"

Vexon took the bait: With another battle cry the doctor started up the bulldozer again, shifting into reverse before turning and pursuing Verne. The turtle turned and ran, darting through the bushes and leaves, and soon disappeared among the foliage as the bulldozer gave chase.

Hammy watched the bulldozer go, listening to the receding sound of its engine, before turning back to the raccoon in front of him.

"...RJ?" Hammy said softly, laying a hand on the raccoon's shoulder. "RJ, please — we really need you to wake up." The squirrel's eyes were glistening, and his nose twitched briefly. "RJ, we can't do this without you! _Please_ wake up?"

The raccoon still didn't move. And it was then that Hammy noticed something: RJ had stopped thrashing in his sleep. His chest was no longer rising and falling.

RJ was completely still.

"RJ," Hammy gasped, "RJ, no! NO!"

* * *

"_WHAT?" shouted RJ, still struggling. "You mean I'm —"_

"_Your heart's stopped beating, and you're being called back," Rob repeated, looking downward and closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, RJ. I never meant for any of this to happen."_

_RJ was beginning to grow considerably panicked. "What does that —" he started, then stopped suddenly._

_He had suddenly been bathed in a bright white glow shining above him, its light pure and pristine. RJ shielded his eyes as he looked into the blinding whiteness, out of which two figures were emerging. _

_RJ lowered his arm, his eyes widening. "...Mom?" he said finally, glancing back and forth between the two raccoons in front of him. "Dad?"_

_Jill and Tim smiled at him, sadness etched in their gazes. "Hello, RJ."_

_Jill held out her arms, and RJ fell wordlessly into her embrace. Tim rubbed RJ's shoulder before also joining the hug. Nothing was said for several moments; then Jill finally whispered, "We were hoping to see you here at a much later time."_

_RJ drew back from the hug, confused. "What ... what do you mean?"_

"_RJ," Tim sighed, "after everything that you've gone through, we'd say you more than deserve a normal life. But we don't run things, and so here you are now: You've been chased by vans, helicopters, bulldozers ... and you've been struck by lightning and fallen into a coma."_

"_But," Jill said finally, placing a paw on RJ's shoulder, "it's not without its reasons, RJ. It's like Rob was saying: You needed this."_

_RJ glanced backward, where Rob was still standing behind him, and the wolf nodded. RJ blinked, then turned back to his parents. "I ... needed to relive being bullied and blackmailed by Vincent?"_

"_Yes," said Tim, with a slight smile. "Because you _know_, RJ. You know how to handle Vincent now; you remember everything about him, and you can use that. You can find a weakness and defeat him. He and Dr. Vexon have placed your home under threat. It's up to you to lead your friends back to safety again."_

_RJ bit his lip. "But Mom ... Dad ... I'm dead."_

_Jill and Tim didn't respond immediately; they simply drew RJ into another hug, comforting him like he was a kit again. RJ rested his head against Jill's chest, listening to her heartbeat, listening to his father's steady breathing ... and wished, for a moment, that he could stay like that forever. Whenever he had been in the arms of his parents, he had always felt that he was safe from everything wicked and evil in the world._

_However, Tim eventually broke the silence, his voice soft. "Not yet, you're not."_

"_It's always darkest before the dawn, RJ," said Jill quietly. "So," she added with a slight smile, "do us a favor now and wake up, because your heart's started beating again. Wake up, RJ. Wake up for real..."_

_And RJ's parents pulled back, away from him; and the swirling blue colors around the raccoon began to fade to black, his parents disappearing with the void. Their gazes, though still sad, also held a hint of hope for their son. RJ raised a paw in farewell — and slowly turned around again to see Rob, fading away with the others. Acting on an impulse, RJ suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Rob's front paw._

"_Rob —" he gasped, "Come with me."_

_Rob's eyes widened and he looked down at the paw RJ was holding; he seemed very unsure of himself. The wolf looked up again to see RJ's parents nodding their approval. "Go, Rob," said Jill gently, her voice echoing now, "it isn't your time yet."_

"_Go on, shoo," said Tim, with a half-grin. "We'll see you both again, someday — though all of us remain hopeful it isn't soon."_

"_You ... you guys can't come too?" RJ asked his parents pleadingly, though already knowing what the answer would be._

"_Our part in your life has ended, RJ," said Jill, still wearing that sad smile. "But you, Rob — you still have a fair amount of unfinished business."_

_Rob looked down again. RJ was growing nervous, as the void around him was getting blacker and blacker, meaning soon his parents — and Rob — would vanish entirely. Then Rob made his decision and tightened his grip on RJ's paw._

_RJ's face broke out into a wide grin, and he looked back at his vanishing parents: They were also smiling. "We love you, RJ," Jill said, her voice distant._

"_Never forget that," Tim added._

_RJ shook his head. "No," he whispered, "never."_

_And around them, at last, the blue faded to pitch black and RJ's family vanished. Then suddenly RJ was spinning out of control, and he and Rob were falling ... down ... down ... down ..._

* * *

Bitter tears coursed down Hammy's cheeks as he hugged the unmoving RJ. "No, no, no, no," he whispered to himself in choked sobs, over and over. "No, no, no, no, no —"

Another bear roar rang through the clearing, and Vincent stumbled back into view, brushing foliage off of himself and cursing the bulldozer and the hedge. "Stupid, scummy, _vile_ animals," he breathed venomously, pulling a branch out of his muzzle. "Nasty little dirtbags who —" His gaze suddenly fixed on Hammy and RJ, and he stopped.

The bear's face split into a wide smirk, and he gave a deep, rumbling laugh. "Oh, ho, _ho_, this is _priceless_," he said, bending over and resting his forepaws on his knees. "What's the matter, little squirrel?" he asked in mock sympathy, slowly coming to stand in front of Hammy, who was gazing up at him with fearful, tear-soaked eyes. "Your little raccoon friend beat me to the punch, did he?"

"Get _away!_" Hammy shouted, and he gently released RJ before stepping towards Vincent, his paws clenched and shaking. "Don't you _dare_ touch him!"

"Why bother?" Vincent yawned, and without warning he lunged downward, falling to all fours, and one of his forepaws shot toward Hammy and grabbed the squirrel, clutching him in a death grip. Hammy's paws scrabbled to his neck and he fought for breath, his eyes popping. "Well," said Vincent menacingly, leaning down to look Hammy square in the eye, "since I've apparently missed out on the opportunity to have my revenge on RJ ... it looks like you will have to do."

"LEAVE ... HIM ... _ALONE!_"

A brown blur suddenly darted between Hammy and Vincent, and a set of claws lashed out and hit the bear straight in the eyes. Vincent let out a wild howl, letting go of Hammy and rearing back up on his hind legs, scratching at his eyes blindly. Hammy took in a huge gulp of air and fell backward — and a familiar figure caught him as he fell.

Hammy looked up, gasping in surprise and relief. "_RJ!_" he shouted, scrambling to his feet and hugging the raccoon tightly. RJ smiled, patting Hammy on the back. "Hey there, Hamsquad."

"Oh, I just _knew_ you weren't dead, I just _knew_ it!" Hammy cooed, nuzzling RJ's chest-fur. "I told them all you'd get better and guess what? I was right!"

"You sure were, Hamsquad," RJ chuckled, "you sure were."

"And the best part is we're even now!" Hammy added, looking up at RJ with his innocent eyes and chipper smile. "We've both scared each other half to death and so now we don't have to do it anymore, right?"

"Whatever you say, Hammy," RJ laughed, and Hammy went back to hugging him. RJ returned the hug, glancing around the glade; save for Vincent's continued roars of agony, all was quiet. "Hey, Hamsquad?" RJ said at length. "Where are the others?"

"Huh? Oh!" Hammy said, releasing RJ. "Right! Well, Vexon apparently busted out of jail and he's trying to kill us. He says he's gonna clear away all of this stuff and build a mall or something. And then Vincent showed up too, and he's trying to kill us."

"Doesn't anybody drop by just to say hello anymore?" RJ muttered, casting a dark glare at the still-howling Vincent.

"Vexon's got a bulldozer," Hammy said matter-of-factly. Suddenly his gaze landed on something behind RJ, and his look grew panicked. "And there it is!" he shouted, pointing.

RJ whirled around: The bulldozer had managed to knock down another tree and now it made a sharp turn, chasing the entire gang of Hedgies now in front of it. The Hedgies, panicked, continued running, Verne in the lead. "Through the Hedge!" he was shouting to the rest of the gang, "everybody through Steve, now!"

RJ let out a growl and leaped upward, landing on the windshield of the bulldozer; through the glass, Vexon's eyes widened and he slammed on the brakes. The doctor let out another evil cackle, pointing maniacally at the raccoon. "You're first, you little menace!" he shouted.

"_Verne! Hammy! Everybody!_" RJ shouted over his shoulder. "Run! _RUN!_"

"_RJ?_" Verne gasped, spinning around, and the Hedgies started murmuring amongst themselves. They took his advice, however, and made for the Hedge as Verne and RJ had told them, Hammy darting forward to take the lead — then Vincent stumbled back in front of them and they skidded to a stop. One of the porcupine kids let out a squeal, but Vincent didn't pay the slightest bit of attention: He was still roaring in pain, grasping at his eyes. Verne took momentary advantage of the distraction and stuck out his foot, and Vincent ran into it and fell, shaking the glade with the force. Verne then jumped over the bear, padding over his back, and gestured for the others to quickly follow.

RJ saw all of this, but missed the rest because Vexon suddenly shot his fist through the windshield and shattered it, aiming to grab the raccoon. RJ yelled and flew backward, feeling himself getting cut by the glass, but Vexon had accomplished his goal: as he lunged forward, his hand grabbed RJ around the waist, and he clutched the raccoon tightly. "I told you that you'd be first!" the doctor giggled, and he brought RJ up to his eye level, chuckling madly all the while. "I don't care what I have to do to get to you, you little bastard. As far as I'm concerned, you're _mine!_"

RJ snarled and bit down on Vexon's hand. The doctor let out a yell, but didn't let go. "Is that all you got?" he snarled, his eye twitching, and he began clenching his fist; RJ was horribly reminded of his mother, trapped in Vincent's grasp. Tighter and tighter Vexon squeezed, and RJ felt all of the air being forced out of him. The raccoon let out a strangled gasp and clawed frantically at Vexon's hands. It had no effect: the doctor's grip continued to tighten. "_Is that all you got?_" he shouted again, right in RJ's face.

"No," came a snarl. "This is."

And a huge, furry blur suddenly leaped out of nowhere and knocked Dr. Vexon aside. The doctor let out a startled cry, releasing RJ, who fell back onto the hood of the bulldozer, taking in huge gulps of air. In front of him there came the sounds of a struggle: Vexon's yell, a terrible snarl, and then finally a fierce kick. RJ raised his head just in time to see Vexon sailing out of the side of the bulldozer, landing hard on the ground. The doctor shook his head to clear it and glared menacingly at the new driver of the bulldozer. RJ turned his head to see who it was.

"Hey there, RJ," said Rob with a friendly smile, waving a paw.

RJ grinned.

"Enough!" came Vexon's shout, and he struggled to his feet, lunging for the bulldozer. Rob yanked on a lever in the dashboard and the shovel swung around, hitting Vexon in the side of the head with a horrible CLANG. The doctor gibbered for a moment, stumbling around woozily, before his eyes focused on Rob and he lunged again.

"_RJ!_" came a fierce snarl, and the raccoon spun around again, pushing himself back on the hood of the bulldozer, toward Rob. Vincent was standing in front of him, tears trailing down his cheeks; his look was murderous. The bear roared again and leaped; RJ covered his eyes and ducked, and Vincent plowed right through the already destroyed windshield, right into the middle of the fight between Rob and Vexon.

Rob yelped and fell backward, landing on the floor of the driver's compartment; his movement pushed down the gas pedal of the bulldozer and with a roar of its engine the vehicle surged forward. RJ let out a shout as the massive wheels of the machine rolled over logs, bushes, fallen trees, plants — and then, finally, the Hedge itself. The bulldozer smashed right through the tangle of trees and branches, creating a large gap, and screeched into the backyard of the still-vacant house that used to belong to Gladys.

The tires squealed in protest as the bulldozer plunged down into the hole created so long ago by the De-Pelter Turbo; RJ, Rob, Vexon and Vincent all bounced up and down like yo-yos over the uneven ground. Finally the vehicle reached the other end of the hole and surged upward, climbing over the edge. RJ looked up and, with a gasp, saw the rest of the Hedgies, still running. They had just managed to make it through the remains of the house and were now bolting as fast as their feet could carry them across the streets of suburbia. If RJ didn't act soon, the bulldozer would soon be upon them.

Rob had a better idea, however, and he ducked and rolled out of the driver's compartment, landing in the grass next to the bulldozer, which screeched to a halt. Vexon and Vincent continued wrestling in the driver's seat; Vincent had lost all sense of reason and was snarling madly, lashing his claws out at anything and everything he could reach. Vexon, on the other hand, was simply trying to get the crushing weight of the bear off of him, letting out little yelps all the while.

Vincent's hateful eyes swiveled around, finally fixating on something: Rob. The wolf was just getting up, a bit woozy from the fight. Vincent howled and leaped for him, and Rob, yelling, fell again, pawing and scratching at the bear, trying to throw him off.

"_GET OFF OF HIM!_" RJ shouted, and he scrambled over the hood and windshield of the bulldozer, finally coming to the top. Without a second thought he jumped and landed on Vincent, pulling on his fur, clawing at him, biting him, doing everything he possibly could to get him away from Rob, away from his family, away from his _life_ —

"_RJ!_" snarled Vincent again, and he scrabbled at his back, trying to nab the raccoon. Rob took advantage of the distraction, getting up. "RJ! JUMP!" he shouted, and he ran forward and headbutted Vincent in the stomach. Vincent let out a grunt and fell backward, and RJ leaped, landing on Rob's shoulders. The wolf checked him over, saw he was okay, and then bolted.

"_COME BACK HERE!_" shouted Vexon, struggling into the driver's seat again, and he started up the bulldozer once more, pushing it forward. Vincent let out another growl and followed, but Rob ignored them, concentrating on catching up to the Hedgies. "If the family — makes it to the forest —" he panted as he ran, "— then they can hide out there — until we manage to lose them."

The family in question had currently taken another turn, running quickly down a street indistinguishable from all the others. John and Snowy seemed to know where they were going, however, and so they were in the lead; being the fastest animals, they had also elected to carry some of the smaller ones (like the porcupine kids) to make the journey faster. Bucky, Quillo and Spike were currently playing patty-cake on John's back, completely immune to the danger surrounding them, while Katrina, Marissa, Frank and George clung to Snowy's fur for dear life. Rob and RJ managed to catch up to them as they turned yet another street corner; Verne, who was in the lead, cast a nervous glance over his shoulder.

"Hurry, everyone!" Lilly shouted, gesturing to the rest of the animals. "We don't have much time!"

Lilly was more right than she knew: Behind the Hedgies, Vexon had pressed down on the gas of the bulldozer, surging forward in front of Vincent. With a screech of tires and a blast of its horn, the yellow machine zoomed around the corner to catch up to Rob and RJ. "Having fun?" the doctor laughed, poking his head out the driver's side window, and Rob gulped.

Rather than stopping the vehicle, Vexon pulled a lever on the dashboard; and as the bulldozer moved, its shovel reached down, toward the gang of horrorstruck Hedgies. Vexon grunted, yanking on the lever again, and the shovel scooped all of the Hedgies up neatly, trapping them inside. The crowd cried out in panic, banging on the sides of the shovel. "_Let us go!_" Verne shouted, struggling out the top.

"I think these little guys need to be put down somewhere," Vexon was saying to himself, and the bulldozer turned one last corner before it zoomed through the gates of El Camelot, Rob and RJ hot on its heels. "_OVER A CLIFF!_" the doctor added with a maniacal laugh, and instead of turning toward the forest, the bulldozer spun on its wheels and went to the left, toward the large END sign plastered on the fence post.

"_NO!_" Rob growled, and he leaped as the bulldozer turned, sailing right into the driver's side and knocking Vexon over. The doctor let out a yell, his foot coming off the gas, and he fell backward, smashing against the other side of the driver's compartment. The bulldozer shuddered to a halt, and Vexon turned a hateful eye on Rob, lunging for the wolf.

Meanwhile, RJ scurried up the side of the vehicle and out on the arm of the bulldozer; soon he reached the end, where the Hedgies had begun to climb out. "Hey, guys," he said with a half-smile, and he offered a paw. "Need a little help?"

"RJ!" Ozzie gasped, taking the raccoon's paw, and RJ helped him out of the shovel. "How did you — we thought you were dead, or —"

"Another time, Ozzie," said Stella smoothly, cutting him off. "We gotta get out of here, first."

"Which _won't be happening!_" came a fierce snarl, and RJ turned around just in time to see Vincent lunge for him. RJ yelled and jumped, landing in the shovel with the rest of the Hedgies; Vincent's paw lashed out, and when RJ ducked it struck the side of the shovel and tilted it. All of the critters inside promptly tumbled out, landing in a heap on the ground. Vincent, meanwhile, gave another roar of pain as he clutched as his injured paw.

"Whoa!" said Marissa, who was the first to recover; she had darted under the fencepost and was now peering over the edge of the cliff, giving an impressive whistle. "That's a looooong way down."

"Marissa!" shouted Katrina, lunging for her sister. "Get away from there! You know better than that!"

"I'm _fine_, Katrina," said Marissa nonchalantly, turning around and rolling her eyes. "See?"

The rest of the Hedgies, meanwhile, had made their way out from under the wheels of the bulldozer and were now being moved along by Verne, who was pointing them toward the forest and counting them to make sure he had everyone. RJ, still not fully recovered, was the last to stand; as he glanced upward, he saw Rob fly through the hole where the windshield used to be, falling off the hood of the bulldozer and landing in front of it. RJ heard Hammy gasp, and couldn't blame him: There was a long gash above Rob's eye, trickling blood down his face, and the wolf's breathing was ragged.

"Ha _haaaaa!_" came Vexon's crazed laugh; he was waving a piece of glass from the shattered windshield in front of him — a piece that was covered with Rob's blood. "You see what you get when you mess with _me??_"

Rob gave another snarl, struggling to his feet. "I did _not_ almost die and then come back to life just to get killed again," he growled, and he leaped for Vexon once more, landing back on the hood of the bulldozer. RJ missed the rest, however, because at that moment a massive black paw came down and swiped at him, and he flew to the side and crashed into Verne, sending the both of them sprawled on the ground. Rob whirled around and bit Vincent on the shoulder in retaliation, dragging him into the fight with Vexon and causing him to give another loud roar of pain.

"Sorry," RJ grunted, helping Verne up. "Did you get everybody to the forest?"

"Almost," said Verne nervously, and he pointed behind them. "All that's left is Hammy, me, Marissa and Katrina — oh, and you and Rob, of course."

At Verne's words, something stirred in RJ's memory, and his eyes widened. "No," he said abruptly, to Verne's surprise; "we're gonna need Marissa and Katrina to stay."

"RJ, they'll be killed!" gasped Verne, and he cast a nervous eye at the fight still going on.

"Not if this works," RJ smiled, flashing Verne his familiar cocky grin. "I have an idea..."

With that, he darted to the rats, who had been sheltered behind the fencepost some distance away. Marissa seemed transfixed by the ongoing battle. "Guys," said RJ, snapping them out of their revere. "I need your help."

"I heard you talkin' about us," said Marissa, finally tearing her eyes away. "What was it about?"

"Never mind that now," said RJ, shaking his head. "Look — I need you guys to go after Vincent."

"You want us to _what?_" shouted Katrina. The fear in her eyes was evident.

"Just _trust_ me on this, all right?" said RJ, looking back and forth between them. "Just — just go after him, all right? He won't hurt you. I promise."

Marissa looked at him strangely. "That's an odd thing to promise," she said, and promptly turned back to Vincent. "_Prepare to meet your maker, you filthy beast!_" she shouted dramatically, leaping for him.

Katrina rolled her eyes. "Well, wherever she goes, I go." And she promptly followed suit.

Vincent had pulled himself away from the battle and was lumbering toward the forest, aiming to go after the Hedgies, but he turned around at the sound of the rats' voices; soon Marissa and Katrina were upon him, scratching at his stomach and chest. "_RATS!_" Vincent shouted, and for the first time there was real fear in his eyes, not just hatred. He growled and swiped at them, but they dodged and continued climbing upward, onto his shoulders and neck, scratching and biting all the while. "_Get OFF, you disease-carrying ingrates, GET OFF!_" Vincent shouted.

RJ smirked in satisfaction before leaping forward to join the battle himself. "Keep at it, you guys!" he shouted to Marissa and Katrina as he landed on Vincent's arm, doing his own fair share of biting and scratching. "Make him madder! Make him _really_ mad! He doesn't think when he's mad!"

As if to prove this point, Vincent gave a wild howl, ceasing in his efforts to pull off Marissa and Katrina and instead just flailing his limbs and stumbling around, trying to shake the animals off. RJ dug his teeth into Vincent's arm and held firm; above him, he saw Marissa and Katrina do the same to the bear's shoulders.

Finally Vincent lost his balance and fell; Marissa and Katrina jumped off his shoulders and looked at RJ for their next cue. "_GO!_" RJ shouted, gesturing toward the forest, and they bolted. RJ himself backed away from Vincent before ending up at the wheels of the bulldozer, where Rob and Vexon were still battling. RJ hoisted himself upward, onto the hood of the vehicle, and Vexon shoved Rob so that he fell out the windshield and onto the ground next to the bulldozer. RJ retaliated by jabbing Vexon in the eyes, and the doctor howled in pain, falling over into the passenger's seat, causing RJ to lose balance and fall onto the driver's side seat.

Vincent pushed himself up off the ground, raising his head to glare hatefully at RJ. "You think this is over, RJ?" the bear snarled, lumbering forward on all fours. "_Every single last one of your little family WILL die! _It'll be just like old times, RJ — you, _alone_, with no one to call your friend, and everybody and anybody who you even _remotely_ cared for will fall victim to _ME!_ Because you know what, RJ? _That's what you get when you mess with me!_"

And he leaped for RJ, snarling with rage; RJ yelled and jumped off the car seat, onto the floor of the vehicle. Vincent, meanwhile, smashed into the side of the bulldozer, forcing his way into the driver's compartment.

Vincent's words had had a profound impact on RJ; he felt like he had been punched in the chest. All sound seemed to die away and the world seemed to slow down: Vexon, his eyes streaming, struggling to see; Vincent, in front of him, glaring at him with hatred in his eyes; and though he couldn't see them, RJ knew his family was still out there, still trying to run away, still unsafe.

He didn't remember pushing down on the gas pedal. He didn't remember feeling the bulldozer lurch forward for what was to be the last time, the fencepost with the END sign disappearing under the wheels of the vehicle. He didn't remember Hammy's yell of "_Stop! RJ, STOP!_" or the look of dawning horror on Vincent's face as the bulldozer suddenly groaned loudly and tilted forward. He didn't remember the horrible plummeting feeling in his stomach that meant they were slowly falling over the edge. All he remembered were Vincent's words, and a single, solitary thought, running through his own mind:

_I have to make sure that nobody else gets hurt._

"_RJ! RJ, NO!_" Hammy shouted again. The vehicle was halfway over the side of the cliff, dipping dangerously. Vincent, furious and snarling, attempted to struggle out from his place under the seat, but as he shifted his paw he slipped and he fell downward again, causing the vehicle to lunge forward even farther. The bulldozers' tires squealed in protest as it tilted more and more, and Vexon lunged down and grabbed RJ off the gas pedal, bringing the raccoon up to his eye level. "You _stupid_ raccoon, look what you've done!" he shouted, and with a senseless yell he threw RJ out the windshield. RJ felt himself flying through the air, bouncing off the hood of the bulldozer; the raccoon's paws, scrabbling for a grip, finally found something to grasp and he found himself hanging off the edge of the vehicle.

"_You ... haven't ... won!_" shouted Vincent, who had at last struggled to his feet and was glaring at RJ with pure, utter loathing, lashing out and trying to reach the raccoon. "You ... _haven't!_"

Every other sound seemed muffled; all RJ heard was the scrape of the bulldozer's tires.

"Maybe I haven't," he said, with a sad smile. "But neither have you."

And the bulldozer plunged over the edge.

RJ let go of the hood, spiraling to the right as he fell, losing himself in the rush of air and the sudden, unexpected silence. Vincent and Vexon were both yelling with rage and fury, but RJ barely heard them; his attention was focused on the sight above him, the grass-covered cliff against a blank, cloudless sky coated with the colors of the sunset — probably the last thing he would ever see.

_Sorry, Mom and Dad_, RJ thought as he fell. _ Looks like I'll be joining you a lot sooner than we thought._

But wait: There was a glimmer. A small speck of hope...

A fishing line cast out in the breeze, a glint of light against an otherwise pale sky, a small lure hurtling toward RJ as he fell. RJ's paw reached out automatically and he grabbed it; the lure pierced his skin, but he didn't even notice. His fall downward suddenly turned into a rushing, upward motion, and the grass of the cliff, what he thought would have been his last sight on Earth, was growing closer and closer by the second...

"_OOF!_" grunted RJ, and sound and feeling returned to his world with a bitter sting: the lure in his hand, and the wall of the cliff against his stomach, as the line had managed to only pull him halfway up the side. RJ shut his eyes and concentrated on climbing the rest, and he finally rolled over the edge and back onto the grass, coming to a stop in front of Verne and Hammy, who both looked incredibly shocked. RJ then opened his eyes and stood to his feet for the last time, casting confused glances at the both of them.

"I thought ... I thought we lost the fishing line," he said finally, a hint of confusion in his voice.

Verne shook his head. "That wasn't ours, RJ."

He pointed, and RJ slowly turned his head, his eyes coming to rest on the back of an animal that seemed ... incredibly familiar. That tan-colored fur, that long bushy tail — and as the critter turned to face him, he saw its last distinct feature — deep and intense blue eyes ... eyes that looked so much like RJ's own...

"Hey there, bro," said Raymond, and he smiled halfheartedly at RJ's astonished gaze.


	12. One More Adventure

_THUD._

RJ felt the ground shake under his feet, and he stumbled, catching his balance. The raccoon gave an involuntary shudder: He knew that neither Vincent nor Vexon would ever be bothering any of the Hedgies again.

"_Raymond!_" he shouted, stumbling forward and catching his brother in a long and fierce hug; Raymond returned it awkwardly, as if he'd forgotten how to do it over the years. RJ pulled back, his hands on his brother's shoulders, and as he opened his mouth to speak, a million questions ran through his mind. Finally he settled on one, and stammered, "Where the heck have you _been?_"

Raymond was still wearing that halfhearted smile. "I think that story can wait until we get your family back home, don't you?" He slung the fishing line over his shoulder and turned to face the crowd of critters, who had seen the bulldozer's abrupt descent and approached once more, concern and worry etched on their faces.

"Everything's okay, everyone," Verne said, stepping forward and waving his hands over his head, "RJ has ... he's taken care of things. No need to worry. Not anymore."

"Sweet! So does that mean we can go back to Steve now?" asked Bucky, bouncing idly in place.

Verne smiled, for what seemed like the first time in a very long while. "Yes. Yes, it does, Bucky."

"And we don't have to worry about evil people coming after us anymore?" added Quillo, matter-of-factly.

"No we don't," said Verne, and there was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd of Hedgies. "We're completely safe, and we will remain that way."

"Awesome! Last one back is a rotten egg!" shouted Spike, and he disappeared in a blur, dashing back toward the entrance to El Camelot, his siblings hot on his heels.

"Come back here, boys!" shouted Penny, and she and her husband hurried to follow suit. "Listen to your mother, there!" Lou added.

Through the haze of questions and confusion in his mind, RJ registered, distantly, how quickly things seemed to be going back to normal for the family. He was jolted out of this, however, by a certain little red squirrel, who had come to stand in front of him, paws on hips.

"...What's up, Hamsquad?" RJ asked eventually, tilting his head.

Hammy poked RJ in the chest. "Do _not_—" he poked him again, "—_ever_—" and again, "—do that again. Okay?"

RJ laughed and slung an arm around Hammy's shoulder, giving the little squirrel a noogie; Hammy kicked and giggled in the raccoon's grip. "No worries, Hamsquad," RJ said, "I won't." He let Hammy slip out of his grasp before turning him around so that he could look his friend in the eyes. "Really," RJ said, "I promise."

Hammy zipped forward at that, engulfing RJ in another one of his customary hugs. "I'm glad," he cooed happily, breathing in RJ's scent.

"I think we all are," said Verne, who had regulated direction of the crowd to John and Snowy, and was now coming back to make sure the last of the critters were headed home. "Seriously, RJ. You gave me such a scare back there. My tail may never fully recover."

The turtle then turned to face Raymond, who had hung back through all of this, unsure of his role now. "So you're RJ's brother, then?" asked Verne evenly, and offered a hand; Raymond took it, shaking it awkwardly. "Well, thank you for saving him. Really, I don't know what any of us would do without him."

"I'm touched, Verne, really," RJ smirked.

Verne didn't break his gaze from Raymond's. "But we still don't know what you're doing here." Raymond's eyes widened and he dropped Verne's hand, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. RJ's smile faded at that, and he approached his brother cautiously, putting an arm around his shoulder; Raymond stiffened at the sudden contact.

"Would you care to tell us?" Hammy asked him, softly.

Raymond looked around at the three of them — RJ, Verne, and Hammy — and RJ was about to tell Verne and Hammy that they could do this some other time when Raymond wasn't scared and exhausted, before his brother sighed and looked down at the ground. "I suppose I do owe you an explanation," he said at length, though he was speaking more to RJ than the others. "Let's talk."

The four of them set off, at the end of the crowd of chattering Hedgies, who were strolling purposely through the streets of suburbia on their way back home. RJ and Raymond's pace, however, was slow and steady, with Verne and Hammy following quietly beside them. All three of them had their eyes fixed on Raymond; he was silent for awhile, but slowly, surely, he began to speak.

"After the humans spotted Dad, they chased after him and caught him," he started, voice heavy. "Then they came back for me. I hid in the field for awhile, but they eventually found me and started chasing me. One of them —" his voice shook, "—one of them managed to grab me for a minute, and his hands were still dark with Dad's blood. His nails — he must have used them to hurt Dad somehow, because they were covered with red, and they cut me. I dropped the bucket and he threw it aside. I saw his hand leave a streak of blood on it. Both from me, and from Dad.

"Anyway, I bit him hard enough for him to lose one of his nails and he dropped me. I ran away, and scurried up a tree. They didn't see me; they kept searching the field. Finally they gave up and I started to go back through the forest. After a while I saw a brown blur — it was James. I shouted at him, and he told me that he'd just seen you and Mom..." Raymond's voice shook again. "He'd told you to run away, awhile ago. He knew that there was no way that I could catch up with you now, and when I tried to go back anyway he told me that if the humans didn't get me, Vincent would. So I went with him."

He paused, but RJ didn't say anything, just looked at him with concerned eyes, and so Raymond continued on.

"We eventually ended up in the Rocky Mountains," he said, gaze distant. "James settled in all right, met up with his family and everything. But I just .. I sort of kept to myself. I remember, staying up night after night, just staring up at the stars. I couldn't ... I had no way of knowing what had happened to you guys, and it was ... I can't even describe it. I felt like I was going insane with guilt for abandoning you, even though James had told me that I would've died if I didn't. I felt ashamed to be alive while you guys might be dead, or worse." He didn't clarify what worse meant, and RJ didn't need him to.

"So I went off on my own," Raymond said softly. "I made this makeshift pouch, out of some branches and leaves and stuff. It was goofy, but it let me keep some stuff I found. I could carry food, feed myself, hang on to anything I might find in the woods."

"Just like _your_ bag, RJ!" Hammy chirped, but RJ shushed him, intent on Raymond's story.

Raymond gestured to his shoulder, where his bag — in a way very much like RJ's but without a zipper or blue fabric — now resided; poking out of the top was the fishing line, which gleamed in the light of the sunset. "I found _that_ after some lazy fisherman packed up and left the lake." He smiled again, and this time there seemed to be a bit more life to it. "Glad to have found a use for that."

RJ glanced at his paw, and the wound where the line had pierced it. "I think we all are," he said, closing his fist.

Raymond nodded. "So I lived like that for a long time. I wasn't happy, not by any means, but hey ... at least I was still breathing." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was very soft. "Then one night, I was out exploring through the trees when I heard an engine running." Another pause. "I'd never gone very far away from James's family; I didn't ever see them much, but it was nice to just ... you know ... stay around them. I guess they became sort of a makeshift family for me."

He shook his head, eyes brimming. "After that night, I wished I'd spoken to them more often. Some humans came out into the mountains and dumped this big bear, this big black bear, in the middle of nowhere. I moved in to get a closer look at him and almost screamed out loud. I kept telling myself, it's not him, there's no possible way it could be him — but it was. Vincent.

"He didn't see me, but his fur was half-blown off and he was mad as all get out. He started smashing through the forest, crashing into trees and breaking off branches and shattering them, and he kept shouting your name. He was insane. I'd never seen anything like it. And it was unbelievable to me that anything about that could actually make me happy. But..." and here he looked up to meet RJ's gaze, "...he kept saying your name. And I knew that meant you were alive. I just knew." He paused. "It gave me heart, I guess."

"Anyway..." his voice shook again, "his ruckus eventually carried him right to James's family. Insane as he was, he still recognized James, and he realized what the stag had done to him, how he'd betrayed him, and ..." he took a deep, shuddering breath. "And that was the last I ever saw of James, or his family."

Nobody spoke; the only sound was the soft pitter-patter of their feet as they walked through the suburbs. They had almost reached the Hedge, but none of them even noticed, fixated on Raymond and his tale.

"So ... after that," Raymond finally said at length, "he got obsessed with tracking you down and making you pay. He kept going back to the spot where he'd been dropped off, kept circling the path and sniffing at the ground, until he found some tire tracks a ways away, and he followed them. And I started following him, because on one paw, I was terrified. If he found you, wherever you were, I knew things weren't bound to end well. But on the other paw, if he led me to you, well ... that'd mean I'd get to see you again. And maybe we could find a way to stop him.

"So one night, the tire tracks stopped, and he ended up on a road, a highway that cut through the forest. He started following it, and walked for a really long time — at least four or five days — before he — we, I guess — came across a jailhouse for the humans. They'd put it out this far to keep the bad ones away from the good ones, I suppose. Anyway, he decided to rest around there for the night, and while he was trying to sleep, something he heard intrigued him — some crazy doctor muttering about that 'dirty raccoon and that family of followers he has'. Meaning you, obviously," Raymond added, glancing at RJ, who nodded again.

"Well, apparently anyone who was against you guys was a friend of Vincent's, because that morning he caused a commotion. He stomped to the yard in front of the jail and started roaring, tearing up trees, the whole thing. When the guards came to chase him out, he led them in a circle around the jailhouse for awhile, and bent the bars on one of the cell windows before running back out into the forest, where I was. And, of course, by the time the guards got back, that doctor had escaped through the bent window. He stole one of the police vehicles and set on down the road, and Vincent started following him without him knowing. And so I followed Vincent.

"It took them a long time to get things going," Raymond said, and his voice was hoarse now; clearly he hadn't had so much to say in years. "Vexon adopted a new name, started plotting to get you guys back, and Vincent was always there, in the shadows, waiting for something to happen so he could get to you while you were already in trouble. That way he could finish you off easily, and for good. And I was in Vincent's shadow, waiting so I might be able to find you — to _help_ you. There were a dozen times where I almost left and tried to find you guys on my own, to warn you, to just _see_ you. But I always came back, because I'd never know where to start, and I'd get lost. I hated myself for not being able to find you. But I finally did," he finished, looking at each of the three of them in turn. "Just in time."

Raymond was spared by saying any more by the approach of Rob, who was limping slightly. The cut above his eye, though not serious, was still dripping. The Hedgies had made it to Gladys's backyard, and were surveying the large hole in the Hedge and the damage that the bulldozer had caused in the glade.

"It's nothing we can't fix," Rob said wearily, and Verne sighed with relief. "It might take you guys a bit to get back on your feet, but you'll be fine."

"Rob, are you all right?" asked RJ, seeing that the wolf seemed to be swaying slightly; surprisingly enough, RJ noticed that he was doing the same.

"If I may point it out, RJ," said Rob, and now he was struggling to keep his balance, "you and I have just spent a lengthy period of time in a coma, and have only now awakened and promptly battled a maniacal doctor and psychotic bear with a very large bulldozer. Would you qualify that as 'all right'?"

RJ felt very, very dizzy. "Okay if I pass out?" he asked nobody in particular, falling to his knees.

"Right behind you," groaned Rob, and as the wolf keeled over, RJ's world faded to a blissful, dreamy blackness.

* * *

Some time later — almost an entire day's worth — RJ awoke. And immediately wished he hadn't.

Groaning, the raccoon sat himself up gingerly, feeling the various joints in his body pop and creak. He was more sore than he'd ever been in his life, including the week after the whole fiasco with the animal testing lab. He rubbed his shoulders tentatively and was rewarded with another series of creaks and pops.

_I'm getting old_, RJ thought to himself, although unconcernedly. Maybe a nice dip in the lake would make him feel better. Standing up (again accompanied by another series of cracks in his limbs), RJ noticed that he'd been placed in the little "home" area of the clearing behind the Hedge. Some of it had been trashed in the battle with Vincent and Vexon, but everything had been lovingly put back into place by his family. RJ smiled as he looked around it: The chair, the TV, the "Home Sweet Home" sign ... all of it was there, and all of it had been cared for.

Seeing all of the familiar sights with fresh eyes made RJ realize just how much he took his family for granted sometimes, and he resolved never to do so again. He loved them, and after everything that had happened he knew that they'd do pretty much anything for him, and he them. It was a good feeling, this sense of belonging. He still hadn't quite gotten used to it after so much of his life had been fending for himself, but he was getting there. And he hoped Raymond would find a similar life here.

He made his way over to a clothesline strung between two trees, grabbing a towel that had been hanging off of it and heading over to the lake. Idly he wondered where the family that occupied so much of his thoughts was, but passing the log he wondered no more: All of them were curled up inside, sleeping peacefully (and, in some cases like Verne's, snoring very loudly). RJ smiled as he noticed Raymond among them: His younger brother had taken a patch of the log somewhat farther away from the others, but Marissa had drifted over to him in her sleep and rested an arm across him. The two of them sighed contentedly as they slept, and RJ moved on.

Presently he reached the lake, pausing to admire how the sunset cast certain lights and dancing shadows across the water, before he tossed his towel aside and waded in. The water was a little cold, but on his aching limbs it felt almost heavenly. RJ gave a contented groan and sat down, the water enveloping him to his chest, and he splashed some of it on his face, willing himself to feel better. Surprisingly, it helped a little.

As the sun disappeared under the horizon and night fell, RJ splashed around the lake a bit, reveling in the freedom of not having to worry about anyone hurting his family, ever again. He scrubbed his whole body, ridding himself of the dirt and grime that only came from a prolonged period of unconsciousness followed by a nasty battle, and then turned over and drifted on his back across the water, blowing bubbles out through his mouth idly. He swam a few laps, stroking across the lake with renowned vigor as he gradually felt the aches in his body disappearing. It would take awhile, but after a few days they'd be gone completely, he figured.

RJ was distracted from this line of thought by a sudden whoop followed by an explosive splash nearby. He righted himself in the water, wiping some from his eyes and doggy-paddling over to where the culprit had made ripples in the water. "Hello?" RJ called.

In answer, a pair of wide green eyes popped up from beneath the surface and RJ gave a smile. "Hey, Hamsquad," he said, chuckling.

The squirrel didn't respond immediately, only raising his eyebrows mischievously and paddling forward, producing an almost eerie effect, as RJ could still only see the top of his head. Hammy went towards RJ, and RJ backed up, turning his arms backwards in the water, until he'd reached the shallow end of the lake and was at the shore, his back resting against the ground.

It was here that Hammy finally caught up with him, laying his palms on the ground next to RJ's shoulders, and hovering above him. There was a look in Hammy's eyes that RJ had only seen once — back just before he'd been struck by lightning; when he and Hammy had argued.

As he and Hammy laid there for several moments, each not saying a word, something in RJ's mind clicked and he exhaled slowly. Hammy noticed this, and gave a nervous smile.

"I ... think you know my secret, now," he said, very quietly.

RJ didn't reply; rather, he thought back for a second, to all of his nightmares and all of the scenarios that had played out in his head ... Hammy had always been the last of RJ's family to get hurt in his nightmares, and in the worst way. At the time, RJ had wondered why that was, but here, now, looking up at Hammy as the squirrel stared at him with large, innocent, nervous eyes...

RJ finally understood.

* * *

"So what's up, Rob?" Hammy asked in his normally cheerful manner.

It was the next day, some time later, and he and RJ had accompanied Rob to a separate clearing, away from the rest of the family, to talk. Hammy had RJ's paw firmly grasped in his and didn't look to be relinquishing it anytime soon; RJ found, to his slight surprise, that he didn't really mind.

"Well..." Rob began at length, scratching the back of his neck with a paw, "...as you might have noticed, I'm... still a wolf."

"Still haven't managed to change back, huh?" RJ asked in sympathy, sitting down in front of him; Hammy followed his lead.

"No," Rob sighed, "and I figure if a coma doesn't calm me down enough to do it, nothing will. For all intents and purposes, I'm ... well, it's pretty much certain that I'm stuck this way."

RJ felt a surge of guilt that he and the others hadn't thought to address this sooner. "Oh geez, Rob, I'm sorry—"

Rob smiled. "No worries, man. It hasn't exactly been a pressing concern lately ... I mean, heck, I'm _glad_ I was a wolf during the whole fight thing. I would have had a much harder time with it as a human kid. But..." and here he looked down, gaze solemn again, and it was awhile before he resumed speaking. "I'm pretty sure my parents think I'm dead."

RJ felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach at the thought. "There's ... gotta be something we can do, isn't there?" he asked, after a minute.

Rob took a deep breath. "There is... well ... one thing, that I think we can try." He looked up again, and RJ wasn't surprised to find a familiar gleam in his eye. "Do you remember when the police shut down the lab? They took all their records, all the papers, everything. They still have that somewhere, on file. All of the stuff the scientists were working on; all of their formulas, test results — all of that is in some department office, probably not far from here."

"You want to steal the records?" RJ asked.

"Not steal ... borrow, more like," Rob said, shifting slightly where he sat. "I'll give them back."

"You think we can find a formula for some type of antidote?" RJ asked. It sounded crazy, yet there was still a surge of hope in his chest at the thought. "And then make it?"

"That, or we find someone who can," Rob said, rising to his feet now. "I know there's a university nearby that has a pretty expansive science department. We could use their stuff, or — if we can't understand it, which is pretty likely in all honesty — then we can find some curious college student who doesn't ask a lot of questions. Most of them don't," he added, as an afterthought. "To think that's where I might end up someday. That is, if this does work."

"We'll make it work!" chirped Hammy, hopeful as always. "Sounds like a plan to me!"

"What do you think, RJ?" asked Rob, with a familiar cocky grin. "You up for one more adventure?"

RJ smiled back. "I just might be."

* * *

"You. Cannot. Be. Serious," Verne said very slowly, arms crossed and looking at RJ like he'd lost his mind.

RJ fell to his knees and clasped his paws together, mockingly begging. "Oh, _pleeease,_ Uncle Verne?" he asked sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes. "I promise we won't be gone long!"

"After everything that's happened — after our family has barely made it through in one piece — you want to go back _out there,_ beyond the Hedge?" Verne pointed a finger at Steve; his eye was twitching. "What on Earth could you possibly be thinking?"

"Not beyond — just over," RJ offered. "And a little to the left."

"We'll be safe," Rob added.

Verne took a deep breath and massaged his temples. "I don't know ... my tail hasn't decided whether it's tingly on this one or not..."

"Verne, look," RJ said seriously, getting to his feet. "You always say family's the most important thing around here, and I agree with that. But Rob here won't ever have one again unless he can get back to normal."

"Back to human," Hammy added, unnecessarily.

"And he can't do this alone," RJ continued. "He needs our help."

"Yeah! I mean, have you _seen_ this guy? He's huge!" Hammy added, gesturing to Rob and then zipping over for a size comparison; the squirrel was barely as tall as the wolf's leg. "And to be sneaky you require partners! Partners that can get into little places, like we can. 'Cause he can't do that part."

"Look," RJ said, "how about we give you a time limit? If we're not finished in, say... three weeks. Give us three weeks, and if we haven't made enough progress we'll come right back here."

"Three weeks? RJ, I don't know... are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Hey, Verne," RJ asked, flashing his familiar cocky grin, "when have I ever not?"

There was silence for a minute as Verne crossed his arms again. Then: "One week."

"Two weeks," RJ countered.

"One and a half weeks."

"One week and five days."

"Deal."

Verne offered his hand; RJ clasped it and shook. "Thanks, Verne."

"You know, you don't have to get my permission," the turtle said, dropping his hand and scratching his head with the other. "What happened to shared leadership?"

"Hey, we're both still in charge," RJ grinned. "I just figured I'd trust the tail on this one. What do you say? Has it decided whether or not to tingle yet?"

Verne grimaced. "I'd have to say that ... no, it's not tingling in the slightest."

"Excellent. Well then," RJ said conversationally, turning to Rob and Hammy, "shall the three of us head out?"

"What — you're leaving _now_?" asked Verne, flabbergasted again.

"Why not? Night's fallen, so we'll be able to make good time."

"Super stealthy! Sneaking in the night!" said Hammy, zipping back and forth in various evasive poses. "Like ninjas!"

"Yes, Hammy, exactly like ninjas," RJ chuckled, rubbing the little squirrel's head. Hammy giggled.

"If you're sure... but RJ," and here Verne's voice was serious enough that RJ turned around to look him in the eye, "be careful."

RJ's gaze was level. "We will be, Verne."

"See you on the other side, hopefully," Rob added, offering a half-smile, before turning around and beginning to depart.

"Rob..." Verne's voice stopped the wolf, but he didn't turn around. "If things," Verne hesitated, "if things don't work out. You're ... you're always welcome back here." He paused. "You know that, don't you?"

Rob's voice was heavy. "I do, Verne." He smiled, again halfheartedly. "Thanks." Verne smiled back, and Rob resumed walking.

"We'll be back soon!" RJ called over his shoulder as he fell into step next to Rob.

"Of course we will! Steve would miss us if we didn't," Hammy added, zipping next to Rob and hopping on the wolf's shoulders. RJ shook his head. Somehow, he was still unsure if the squirrel genuinely believed what he was saying.

* * *

After saying goodbye to the rest of their family (Marissa made RJ super-pinky-promise to come back safely, and the porcupine kids asked for one last ride on Rob's back, which the wolf was happy to do), RJ made a stop in his little "home" area to grab his bag. As he picked it up, Hammy followed him. "Got everything ya need?" he asked, smiling brightly.

RJ smirked and tossed his bag onto his shoulder, not even bothering to check it. "I always do, Hamsquad. That I know for a fact."

The squirrel tilted his head. "Hmmm, I dunno. I think you're missing _one_ thing..."

"Oh?" RJ asked, "what's that?"

"A hug!" Hammy exclaimed brightly, and promptly engulfed RJ in one. "'Cause you can never have enough hugs!"

RJ chuckled as he returned the squirrel's embrace. "I really should have seen that coming."

"RJ!" came a voice, and he and Hammy broke apart to see Raymond approaching them, his expression serious. He stopped in front of them and looked ready to speak, but seemed unsure of what to say; his gaze shifted away from them and back and he twisted his paws together. Finally he looked up, and his voice broke as he said: "Stay safe."

RJ stepped forward and hugged Raymond as well, and after a moment his brother returned the embrace, sighing deeply. "I will, Raymond," RJ said gently, and he meant it.

"I just got you back after who knows how long," Raymond said as the two of them drew back. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again."

"You _won't_," said RJ, offering a reassuring smile. "I've got Hamsquad here. He's got street smarts."

He gestured to Hammy, who was currently staring at the fabric of RJ's carseat, and wondering if he could eat it. He gave a nibble, and decided that no, he could not.

"And Rob," RJ amended, "I've also got Rob. He's, uh, vicious and stuff."

"Ain't that the truth," Raymond muttered; he had seen the wolf fighting Vexon. "Just ... I know you, RJ, and I know you like to take chances. Please don't, this time."

"You have my word," RJ said, placing his paws on Raymond's shoulders. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" He smiled again. "Could be a great bonding experience for us brothers..."

Raymond gave a shaky laugh. "Thanks, but I've been on the move for... well, it seems like forever," he said, gaze distant. "I think it'd be better for me to stay here. That, and ... I'd really like to get to know this family of yours better. If, you know, they'll have me."

"Oh don't be silly!" laughed Hammy, zipping over to stand beside the two of them. "Verne already says that anyone related to RJ is in our family by extension! And even if you weren't you'd be welcome here. He said a lot of other stuff too, but I forgot."

"That's Verne," RJ laughed, "he tends to be a little long-winded sometimes." He arched an eyebrow at Raymond. "Anyone in particular you'd like to get to know better? I saw Heather making Bambi eyes at you awhile back..."

Even though it was dark, RJ knew Raymond was blushing underneath his fur. "Wow, really?" Raymond asked, lowering his head in embarrassment. "That's, uh, pretty cool..."

RJ smirked. "I think you're gonna do just fine around here, Raymond."

Raymond smiled, and it was a real, genuine smile. "You really think so?"

"I know so," RJ said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a wolf that needs de-wolfing."

He started to turn around, but again Raymond's voice stopped him.

"RJ..." he said, softly, "...thank you."

RJ blinked at him, then grinned and raised his paw, where the scar from the fishing line was apparent; RJ saw Raymond's eyes trace it.

"Thank _you_, Raymond," RJ said, and nothing more needed to be said, as the two of them smiled at each other.

With a rustle of leaves, Rob poked his head into the clearing, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Everyone ready to go?" he asked.

"Let's do this!" Hammy shouted, climbing onto Rob's back. RJ followed, wrapping an arm around the squirrel's shoulders; Hammy giggled and leaned into his grasp.

"To the university!" RJ yelled dramatically, pointing a finger in the air, and Rob rolled his eyes before turning to the Hedge. "I'm not your stallion, you know," the wolf muttered, though there was humor in his voice.

"Bye, everyone!" Hammy called, waving behind him, and as Rob passed the log, the three of them saw the entire crowd of animals gathered around it, waving goodbye. "See you soon!"

"Don't forget to stay warm, dears; the cold weather is coming!" Penny called.

"And don't be gettin' into no funny business, there!" Lou added, a hand on his hip.

"Good luck!" Katrina shouted, waving.

"And good eatin'!" Marissa said in kind, ignoring her sister's confused glance.

As each of the animals said their goodbyes, Rob smiled. "Wow ..." he said, glancing back at RJ and Hammy. "You guys are really close."

"It's not just us they're saying goodbye to, Rob," RJ said, arching an eyebrow.

Words seemed to fail Rob at that point, and he lowered his head. "Yeah ... we'll see them again soon, though," the wolf said.

"And hopefully for you, it'll be through new eyes," RJ added.

"I can't argue with that," Rob agreed, and then RJ felt his shoulders tense as the wolf lowered himself down, crouched and ready. "All right. We all set?"

"Oooh, oooh, ooh, I love this part!" Hammy said, bouncing up and down on Rob's shoulders. "I get to do the countdown!"

"Ready to roll," RJ said, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his bag and sliding them on.

"THREE!" Hammy shouted.

Rob's claws dug into the ground.

"TWO!"

The wolf narrowed his eyes, tensed and ready.

"ONE!"

The crowd behind them cheered, and Rob suddenly propelled himself forward, running right for the Hedge. He jumped ... and the three of them crashed right through in a familiar shower of leaves and branches, landing on the cool pavement and basking in the gentle breeze.

"Off we go!" Hammy shouted, and Rob turned down the street and bolted, disappearing into the night beyond.

* * *

"I got it," Andy called, drying the dish he had been washing and setting it down as he went to answer the doorbell. He didn't dare acknowledge the flare of hope in his chest as he approached. Maybe Rob had...

He opened the door and stared out into the night in confusion: No one was there. "Hello?" he called, glancing around again, before his gaze fell on the doorstep: there was a piece of paper lying at his feet.

Andy picked it up and unfolded it: it was a note. It looked to have been typed on a computer ... and, oddly, it was dated today.

"Rebecca," he said, after a moment. "Come look at this."

His wife emerged from the office, juggling a stack of papers. "What is it, honey?"

Andy passed it to her, his expression pale. "Read it."

Rebecca took the note and began to read. By the second line, tears had started to blur her vision.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I'm safe, don't worry. I'm really, really sorry about this, really I am, but please believe me when I say that I'm coming back home. I may not get there for a few days, but I'll be there. I really wish I could explain things to you, but I can't. Not now. Maybe someday, if you ever believe me._

_I've been living with a family of friends. They're like me, at least for now. It's really hard to explain. Just know that I'm alive, and I'm safe and sound, and I miss you. I kind of have to fix something, but I'm going to fix it, right now. I'll be okay. My friends will make sure of that._

_I love you, Mom and Dad. I'll be home soon. I promise._

_Love,_  
_Rob_

* * *

_A/N: Epilogue coming soon; stay tuned.  
_


End file.
